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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350354">Beg my broken heart to beat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeretianStarburst/pseuds/VeretianStarburst'>VeretianStarburst</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nightmares, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:40:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26350354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeretianStarburst/pseuds/VeretianStarburst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurent first met Damen in the visitation room at Marlas Penitentiary.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>367</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title is from “Cloud Nine” by Evanescence.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asked Judge Vannes from behind her bench at the front of the courtroom. She looked to her left, where twelve people were sitting in the jury box.</p><p>Laurent was seated in the spectator area, in the middle row on the right side of the room. He was only thirteen, but even he knew there was not enough solid evidence to have his brother locked away. Surely the jury also saw how painfully obvious it was that Auguste was innocent.</p><p>The foreperson stood. “Yes, Your Honor.”</p><p>There was a serious expression on Auguste’s face as he listened to the whispered words of their family lawyer, Herode. Laurent couldn’t hear what was being said, but Auguste was nodding along to whatever it was he was being told. Herode placed a hand on Auguste’s shoulder as they both turned their heads towards the jury.</p><p>Laurent wasn’t aware his leg had been bouncing until he felt the soft touch of Uncle’s hand on his knee. His leg stilled instantly. The touch was so brief that Laurent might have imagined it. He glanced at Uncle, whose eyes were focused on the foreperson with a face void of any emotion. Laurent wondered what he was thinking in that moment.</p><p>Keeping his hands in his lap, Laurent picked at the loose thread on the cuff of his coat. But nothing could distract him from what he was about to hear.</p><p>“We the jury,” said the foreperson, “by unanimous verdict, find the defendant, Auguste de Vere...”</p><p>Laurent’s heart was beating impossibly fast as he stared down at his hands. The thread tore when he pulled too hard on it.</p><p>“Guilty.”</p><p>-</p><p>The first visit was the hardest.</p><p>After the mandatory pat down search that Laurent had barely endured, he kept his hands in the pockets of his jacket as Uncle filled out the paperwork. Two weeks had passed since Auguste was sent to Marlas Penitentiary, and he was finally permitted to have visitors. Naturally, Laurent and Uncle were the first two names added to his visitation list.</p><p>Laurent was having a hard time coping with his daily life without Auguste, even with the extra attention Uncle had been giving him lately. There were mornings when Laurent woke up, expecting to hear the sound of clattering by Auguste in the kitchen. Nights when he stared at the front door as though Auguste would be entering the house any moment.</p><p>The woman behind the desk was named Loyse, and she gestured for them to go right once everything was in order. Laurent silently followed Uncle. A Correctional Officer stood at the end of the short hallway, the nametag on his white shirt indicating his name was Jord. He unlocked the door for them, stepping to the side to allow them to enter. Laurent barely managed to say thank you.</p><p>Reality came crashing down on Laurent as he stepped into the visitation room after Uncle.</p><p>Auguste would not be coming home any time soon.</p><p>He was going to stay within these prison walls for the next thirty-five years.</p><p>He would not be released until he was sixty.</p><p>He had been taken away from Laurent.</p><p>The door shut with a bang, causing Laurent to jump. He heard the faint sound of a key locking the door from the other side, the CO’s face impassive as he did so.</p><p>There were eighteen white square tables split into three rows of six. All four sides of each table had a metal stool that were all bolted into the ground. They looked uncomfortable to sit on, but with a time limit of one hour before they would have to leave, Laurent didn’t care.</p><p>Including Auguste, there was a total of five inmates in the room. A couple of them were already talking to their own visitors. Auguste was not hard to spot among them in his short sleeve beige jumpsuit. He also wore a white long sleeve shirt underneath it. An identification card was clipped to the pocket of the jumpsuit at his chest. His shoulder length hair was pulled back into a neat man bun. The moment he saw Laurent, his face lit up.</p><p>Laurent blinked back the tears as he moved with hurried steps past Uncle at the same time Auguste stood from the table. They embraced; their arms wrapped tightly around each other.</p><p>“I’ve missed you,” Laurent said, his words low and mumbled.</p><p>“I’ve missed you, too,” said Auguste. “So much.”</p><p>Not once did Laurent think his brother was capable of murder, had never considered the possibility of such a thing. Auguste was the type of person who would never hurt a fly.</p><p>Halvik had been an old family friend, and became more of a mother figure to both of the de Vere brothers in the months following the death of their parents when Laurent was eight. Auguste would spend every second Saturday helping her, whether it was with gardening, grocery shopping, or picking up her medication. Sometimes he would return home at night with fresh pastries for Laurent that he had baked with her that same day.</p><p>Laurent had looked up to his brother for as long as he could remember. He still did, even now. There were a lot of words he could use to describe him: selfless, beloved, social, reliable, compassionate, sincere.</p><p>Murderer was not one of them.</p><p>Yet Auguste had been considered the prime suspect after Halvik’s lifeless body was found in her home. Why? Because his heart was kind, and he had gone out of his way endless times to help a woman who had always been there for their family? He had clearly been framed for the crime, and it made Laurent angry because somewhere out there was the real culprit. It was unfair that they were free, and Auguste was sentenced to spend the best years of his life in prison.</p><p>When they pulled away from the hug, Auguste’s hands were on Laurent’s shoulders. “The truth will come out eventually,” he said.</p><p>Laurent wanted desperately to believe that, but he had never been as optimistic as his brother. They both knew that unless someone confessed to the murder or new evidence that pointed the finger at somebody else was discovered, Auguste would be serving the whole sentence. Laurent managed a single nod before they sat across from each other at the table. Uncle was already seated on Laurent’s right.</p><p>“Thank you for bringing him,” Auguste said. His eyes were on Laurent, but he was speaking to Uncle. </p><p>“Prison is no place for a child to be.” Uncle sighed.</p><p>“No, it’s not,” said Auguste, agreeing.</p><p>“But I wanted to see you,” said Laurent, silently hoping it was not obvious he was trying to hold back his tears.</p><p>Auguste smiled, although there was sadness in his eyes. “I’ll always be happy to see you, but please don’t ever feel like you have to force yourself to come here. All of this must be hard for you.” Even after everything he had gone through, Auguste was still more concerned for Laurent’s wellbeing than his own.</p><p>As much as Laurent wanted to reach across the table to hold his brother’s hand, he knew he couldn’t. Physical contact was extremely limited, with the exception of at the start and end of the visit. He took a deep breath, exhaled. His eyes drifted to the other inmates, noticing a couple of them wearing different coloured jumpsuits. Two wore red, one wore beige like Auguste, and the fourth was in green.</p><p>Auguste must have noticed Laurent’s curious stare. “If you’re comfortable with it, Laurent, you can ask me questions about this place.”</p><p>“Why are there different colours?” he asked, looking back at Auguste with furrowed brows.</p><p>“Ah, the prison is split into four cell blocks. Beige is what everyone wears when they arrive. After a few weeks, I’ll be assigned to another block with a different colour.”</p><p>Laurent didn’t ask if there was a reason behind needing multiple blocks, and Auguste didn't elaborate.</p><p>The clock on the wall ahead of Laurent ticked, second by second, until the hour was over. Uncle was the first to stand. Laurent didn’t want to leave; he could barely stand up without needing to put his hands atop the table for balance. He heard Uncle’s footsteps across the tiled floor, heading towards the door. How could Laurent do the same, when it meant leaving his brother behind?</p><p>“Everything will be okay,” said Auguste, coming to stand beside Laurent. “We need to stay positive, okay?”</p><p>How could Auguste still think like that? It made absolutely no sense to Laurent. He turned so they could hug properly, his hands gripping the back of Auguste’s jumpsuit. When he couldn’t bring himself to let go, his grip tightened.</p><p>“Inmate!” one of the COs called out. “Let’s go!”</p><p>The two brothers pulled back to look at each other.</p><p>“I love you,” said Auguste, kissing Laurent’s forehead.</p><p>“Love you,” said Laurent, leaning up on the tips of his toes to kiss Auguste’s cheek. When he walked out of the room, his heart ached more with each step he took.</p><p>-</p><p>Laurent’s fourteenth birthday was five months after that first visit.</p><p>Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, Laurent focused on brushing through the blond locks of his mid-back length hair. He set the brush down on the white vanity top beside his phone, and he loosely braided his hair, letting it rest over his left shoulder when he was done.</p><p>Picking up his phone, Laurent checked the time on it as he walked out of the bathroom. He put the phone into his pants pocket as he walked down the hallway, faltering when he reached the door to Auguste’s bedroom. Laurent had gone in there during the first week of Auguste’s incarceration to try and feel closer to him, crying himself to sleep each night atop the blanket.</p><p>Uncle had soon filled the void of his loneliness.</p><p>Lifting a hand to the stainless steel door knob, the door creaked as Laurent pushed it open wide enough to be able to peek inside. The curtains were always pulled closed, the room constantly kept in darkness. It felt like the opposite of Auguste, who was bright and open. His hand slipped from the door knob to grasp the frame of the doorway beside the light switch. Further down the hallway, he heard the door to Uncle’s bedroom open.</p><p>“Laurent.”</p><p>Letting go of the frame, he quickly shut the door with a little too much force. He flinched from the sound of it, his hand still on the knob.</p><p>“I thought we spoke about you staying out of there,” he chided. “I do wish you would listen to me more.”</p><p>“Sorry, Uncle.”</p><p>“Come. Your brother will be expecting us soon.”</p><p>The thirty-minute car ride to the prison was quiet, as it usually was. Neither made small talk, Laurent opting to listen to the music on his phone to drown out the sound of the radio station Uncle was listening to. When they arrived at the prison’s carpark, Laurent took out his earphones and wrapped them into a neat bundle before putting them away in the glove compartment along with his phone.</p><p>Entering the building, they went through the security protocol before signing their names in the visitors book at the desk. Nine out of ten times it was Loyse who greeted them each visit. The only reason Laurent knew she was married to the warden was because Auguste had once told him.</p><p>The visitation room was busy that day. Most of the tables were occupied.</p><p>Auguste was in the middle of a conversation with an inmate at the table beside his, making ridiculously big hand gestures to emphasise whatever it was he was saying. The other man laughed, slapping a hand on the table and grinning when a CO gave him a warning to keep it down. Auguste turned his head, waving when he spotted them at the door. His jumpsuit was now navy blue, a colour that had always suited him.</p><p>Laurent smiled as he made his way over with Uncle. The inmate turned his attention towards one of the COs, trying—and failing—to engage in conversation with them.</p><p>“Happy birthday,” Auguste said, pulling Laurent into a hug as he kissed the side of his head. He greeted Uncle as the three of them sat down, his eyes drawn to Laurent’s braid. “How am I only now noticing how long your hair has gotten?” He sounded impressed.</p><p>Laurent could feel Uncle’s scrutinising gaze on him, but tried to ignore it as best he could as he continued to speak to Auguste.</p><p>It was only in the carpark, later, that Uncle spoke what was on his mind. “It makes you look feminine.”</p><p>Laurent blinked, not realising at first what he was talking about. When it finally clicked, he unconsciously held his braid in one hand. “You don’t like my hair?” he asked.</p><p>Uncle unlocked the car, opened the door. He said nothing in return, a scowl on his face as he entered the car, and that was answer enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry Auguste :')</p><p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings for Laurent’s abuse in this chapter. It doesn’t happen on screen, but it is implied.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took three days for Laurent to make his decision.</p><p>He watched himself in the bathroom mirror as he tied his hair into one ponytail. If he was completely honest with himself, a part of him didn’t want to go through with this. He had become attached to his long hair, which he began to grow out as he mourned his parents six years ago.</p><p>Laurent liked how he had the option to use a variety of different hairstyles, even though he typically kept his hair in a singular braid or ponytail. He liked how calming it was whenever Auguste would brush it for him as they talked. He even liked when people complimented it, especially the elderly women, who always seemed to be in love with it as much as he was.</p><p>But Uncle did not like it, as Laurent recently discovered in the carpark. Had he disliked it this whole time?</p><p>
  <em>“It makes you look feminine.”</em>
</p><p>Laurent had never thought that, had never been told it before that day, but the more he looked at his reflection over the past three days, the more he started to believe it. He didn’t fully understand why that was such a bad thing though, but making Uncle happy would also make himself happy, right?</p><p>Laurent used one hand to pick up the scissors, his other already moving behind his head to hold the ponytail in place. He had watched a dozen tutorial videos, and this seemed like an easy enough thing to do. He positioned the opened scissors above the hair tie, keeping them there for a moment as he tried to process what he was actually about to do.</p><p>In truth, he should have asked to go to a hairdresser, but he wanted it to be a surprise for Uncle.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Laurent began to cut into his blond hair. There was no turning back now. He exhaled slowly, keeping his hand steady as he continued cutting, although it took a little bit of effort. </p><p>Mouth agape once it was over, he held up his hand in front of him and stared down at the cut off ponytail. The first thing he noticed was how light his head felt without all that hair. His movement was slow as he set down the scissors and lifted his hand back up to run his fingers through the short locks of hair. It would obviously need to be evened out a little bit but, overall, it looked okay to him.</p><p>Laurent had already decided he was going to donate the hair, since there was no point wasting it. Someone out there could put all that hair to good use in a wig. He placed it down beside the scissors, his eyes looking up and down the length of it when he heard Uncle’s car in the driveway.</p><p>He took a step back and turned to leave the bathroom, making his way towards the front door as it opened. Uncle entered the house, his eyes up on Laurent’s head and brows slightly raised as he closed the door behind him.</p><p>Laurent tapped the fingers of his right hand against his leg as he stood there, watching as Uncle walked up to him. Why did he suddenly feel nervous?</p><p>Uncle raised a hand to cup the side of Laurent’s head, his thumb brushing back the short hair. “This is a much better style for a young boy,” he said, approval clear in his voice. “Would you like me to fix it up for you before dinner?”</p><p>The fact he liked it caused Laurent to beam. He nodded.</p><p>-</p><p>“It’s been a long time since you last had short hair,” said Auguste, a little surprised, “but it looks nice.” His arms were crossed and resting casually atop the table. He wasn’t wearing the white shirt underneath since summer was right around the corner, and the air was already starting to become warm. Without the long sleeves, Laurent was finally able to notice how defined Auguste’s biceps had become, compared to the first day here.</p><p>“Thank you,” Laurent said, smiling.</p><p>“Is there a reason for the sudden change?” Auguste asked.</p><p>Laurent shrugged nonchalantly, forcing himself not to look at Uncle as he said, “I just felt like it. It’s good to change things up sometimes. Plus, it's always been bothersome in the warmer weather.”</p><p>Auguste brought one hand up to rest his chin on the back of it, his other arm still on the table. “Well, as long as it makes you happy.”</p><p>Laurent looked over his brother’s shoulder when the door opened and in walked an inmate dressed in the same navy blue jumpsuit as Auguste. A sudden burst of laughter came from the corner of the room, where a visitor sat at the table there, quickly trying to stifle the sound with a hand. He looked young, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, or maybe he was in his early twenties. Laurent could not quite tell.</p><p>“Blue does not suit you at all,” the man said with a grin that effectively showed off the dimple on his cheek that Laurent’s eyes were drawn to. When the inmate reached him, they both clasped each other’s forearms.</p><p>“Trust me, Damen, nobody wants to wear red in here,” the inmate said. Laurent wasn’t sure he wanted to know why. “How was your flight? Is your father doing well?” he asked, sitting down at the table.</p><p>Laurent didn’t get to hear the response, because he got distracted when Auguste said, “Are you eavesdropping on my cellmate and his friend?” His voice was teasing.</p><p>Laurent blinked, his cheeks feeling warm as he looked back at his brother. “That’s Nikandros?” Auguste didn’t talk too much about his cellmate, but at least now Laurent could put a face to the name. He wasn’t surprised Auguste was making friends, even in prison. He just hoped it was with the right men, because there were a lot of stories out there about people falling in with the wrong crowd in prison.</p><p>“You need to be careful who you trust in here,” Uncle said.</p><p>“He’s a good guy,” Auguste said. Then, in a slightly raised voice, he said, “Even though he was standoffish at first and is impossible to talk to sometimes.”</p><p>The sound of laughing once again came from Damen. “See, Nik? I told you it’s true!”</p><p>Laurent looked back over at the table, seeing the annoyance on Nikandros’ face directed at Auguste, then at Damen. Laurent couldn’t help but smile when Auguste let out a breath of laughter, because this should be the lowest point of his brother’s life, yet here he was, still able to laugh like everything was normal. Laurent didn’t think he’d be able to do the same if he were in Auguste’s position.</p><p>Laurent noticed the way Damen looked curiously at Auguste before turning back to whisper something to Nikandros, who nodded in response to what must have been a question. Looking back with a smile, Damen gave a wave. Auguste easily returned it with as much enthusiasm, but Laurent felt a little shy as he lifted a hand to wave.</p><p>Uncle stood, and Laurent’s heart sank, knowing it was time to leave. It was sometimes easy to forget they only had a limited amount of time to see each other. Standing, he stepped around the table to hug Auguste, wishing, like always, it would last longer before he had to pull away. He walked down the aisle behind Uncle, towards the door.</p><p>“Hey, Princess.”</p><p>Laurent stopped beside a table, where an inmate in a red jumpsuit was sitting with a wide grin on his face. The man’s nose was flat and broken, and Laurent wondered how many fights he had been in for it to look that way. He was aware that Nikandros and Damen’s attention had shifted to them. Auguste, who had been heading towards the other door that the inmates used, had stopped in his tracks.</p><p>Feeling uneasy when the man’s eyes looked him up and down, Laurent walked off, but he only managed three steps before the inmate spoke again.</p><p>“How about a conjugal visit when you’re old enough? Or now. I’m not picky.”</p><p>Laurent froze, one shaky hand coming up to hold Uncle’s forearm as he looked back at the man. Damen had jumped up, the anger clear on his face and a fist clenched, but Auguste was closer and quicker. Laurent’s eyes went wide as he watched his brother grab the front of the man’s jumpsuit and pulled him up from the stool, managing to land one punch across the face before three COs eventually intervened.</p><p>“You still think Auguste doesn’t belong in here?” Uncle asked, his voice calm and collected, as though he wasn’t also witnessing the same thing that Laurent was. He hadn’t even flinched, seemingly unphased.</p><p>Laurent’s eyes were still wide, but not out of fear. He was shocked, because Auguste must have known there would be consequences to what he had just done, but did it anyway. Also shocking was the fact that Damen—a complete stranger Laurent had never met before that day—clearly had the intention of doing what Auguste had just done.</p><p>-</p><p>Auguste had lost the right to have visitors for one month, which Laurent thought was extremely unfair. He could continue to make calls, but it was still hard for Laurent to not be able to see him in person.</p><p>It didn’t take long for Laurent to fall into the habit of going straight to his room when he got home from school and spend hours in bed under the blanket in the fetal position. Sometimes he’d cry, sometimes he didn’t have the energy to shed a single tear.</p><p>A single knock came from the door, which opened before Laurent had the chance to say one word. He groaned when the light was turned on without warning and he pulled the blanket fully over his head. The edge of the mattress dipped when Uncle sat on it, his hand resting on Laurent’s shoulder, over the blanket.</p><p>“I want to see Auguste,” said Laurent, his voice small and weak. He gripped the pillow with one hand. “I want him to come home.”</p><p>“Even after what you saw him do?”</p><p>“That...” Laurent used his other hand to slowly pull back the blanket enough to be able to look up at Uncle, his eyes squinting slightly from the light. “He only did that for me.”</p><p>“And now he’s being punished for it.” Uncle sighed. “I did say from the beginning you shouldn’t be there.”</p><p>Was Uncle implying this was Laurent’s fault, even though he hadn’t asked for that inmate to bother him in the first place? He also hadn’t asked for anybody to step in and defend him, as much as he appreciated it.</p><p>“But—”</p><p>He was cut off by a gentle hush. “Talking about this right now will not do you any good.” He patted Laurent’s shoulder a couple of times before standing. “I’ll give you something to help you relax at dinner time.”</p><p>Laurent hadn’t expected it to be wine.</p><p>He sat at one end of the dining table, idly playing with a metal fork between his fingers as he watched Uncle pour two glasses of red wine. He had never before tasted it, or any kind of alcohol for that matter.</p><p>“It’s okay for me to have this?” Laurent asked after the crystal glass had been placed in front of him.</p><p>“It will help clear your mind,” Uncle said, moving to sit at the other end.</p><p>Looking down at the liquid, Laurent set the fork atop his half-finished plate of food. Gingerly picking up the glass by the stem, he brought it to his lips. Uncle’s eyes were focused on him as he took the first sip.</p><p>And the second.</p><p>And the third.</p><p>Until every last drop was gone.</p><p>-</p><p>The first visit after that unbearably long month passed had to be non-contact. Laurent wasn’t exactly thrilled about not being able to wrap his arms around his brother after so long, but at least they could see each other. It was still a step up from only being able to hear one another over the phone.</p><p>“Booth number twelve,” said CO Pallas, unlocking the door.</p><p>Laurent followed Uncle into the room, his face instantly paling when he noticed that the seats in there were the same metal stools as the ones in the other visitation room. When they reached the booth at the other end of the room, Laurent hesitated to sit as Uncle leaned against the wall behind him.</p><p>“You’re the one who asked to come here,” Uncle reminded him, raising an eyebrow. “Begged, even.”</p><p>Flushing, Laurent tried not to make his tensing obvious as he sat down, his hands falling into his lap. After a couple minutes of waiting, Auguste appeared on the other side, sitting as he reached for the phone. Laurent also grabbed the phone in front of him, which was located on the narrow strip of wall beside the window. He placed his other hand flat against the window and smiled when Auguste did the same. Their hands were only separated by the two inch thickness of the window.</p><p>When Auguste smiled back, there was something off about it.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Laurent asked, brows furrowed with concern.</p><p>Auguste looked over Laurent’s shoulder, presumably at Uncle, before their eyes met again. "I thought he would have told you by now.”</p><p>Laurent’s grip on the phone tightened. “Told me what?”</p><p>There was a long pause, as though Auguste was trying to find the right words to say. Finally, he said, “Uncle and I both think it will be good for you if we reduce the number of visits.” Laurent opened his mouth to speak, but Auguste was already talking again. “This isn’t easy for me to say, Laurent, but as hopeful as we can be about me getting out of here anytime soon, the reality might be that I’m in here longer than either of us would like.”</p><p>“But why…” Why did the amount of visitations have to be lowered? Laurent couldn’t bring himself to finish asking that question. His hand against the window balled into a fist, and he could already feel the tears threatening to fall. “I’m sorry,” he said, “about what happened last month.”</p><p>“Nothing about what happened that day was your fault,” said Auguste. “I don’t regret what I did. But, Laurent, clearly being here so often is affecting you more than I thought it would.”</p><p>“That’s not true,” said Laurent, his voice small.</p><p>“Did Uncle lie to me about you not paying attention in class, or how your grades have been dropping?” Laurent shook his head. “You’re also not eating properly.” It wasn’t a question.</p><p>Laurent shifted on the stool, immediately regretting it. He let out a long sigh, pressing the receiver end of the phone to his forehead with his head tilted downwards and his eyes shut. Uncle’s hand brushed against his as the phone was taken from him, and he didn’t bother anymore to hold back the tears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter will take place after a 3 year timeskip, where the focus will start shifting towards Laurent and Damen.</p><p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A quick thing I forgot to mention previously: I’m in the Southern Hemisphere, so late spring for me is November, and that’s when I imagine Laurent’s birthday taking place.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Laurent knocked on the door, waiting only a short moment before it opened. He stepped into the office, the soles of his pristine leather shoes clacking against the white terrazzo floor as he walked towards the dark grey double seater couch. He shrugged his bag off his shoulders and dumped it on the floor beside the couch before he sat down. His pose was casual as he crossed one leg over the other.</p><p>The sounds of the other students talking and walking in the hallway became muffled after Paschal closed the door with a quiet click. There was a window on the top half of the door, the slats of the white venetian blind on it already closed to give them privacy.</p><p>“How have things been with you since our last session?” Paschal asked as he walked over to the green armchair across from Laurent and sat down. He picked up the pen and notebook from the small round table beside his chair, flipping through the book until he reached the section reserved for the notes he wrote about Laurent. Clicking the pen, he pressed the tip of it against the paper, looking expectantly at Laurent.</p><p>“Fine,” said Laurent, raising his shoulders up in a shrug. He obviously was not fine, otherwise he would not be here, about to spend these next thirty minutes talking to the school counsellor. He’d be in a classroom with the other students, if he were fine.</p><p>Laurent’s first session with Paschal happened shortly after his visits to Auguste were reduced. He had been reluctant in the beginning, insisting he didn’t need to see the counsellor. The only reason he did it was to make Auguste happy.</p><p>The visits had gradually lowered from once a week to once every two weeks, and then to once every three weeks. There were times when he would only go once a month, because after Laurent turned fifteen, Uncle began to come up with excuses not to take him.</p><p>Paschal stared at him for a long moment. “Any more nightmares?”</p><p>“There was one,” replied Laurent, straightening his posture, “about a week ago.” He tapped his fingers beside him on the arm of the couch, his other hand smoothing out the wrinkles on his black school pants, at the knee.</p><p>“Just the one?” Paschal asked, and Laurent nodded in response. “That’s a very big improvement,” he said, looking down to scribble some notes.</p><p>A little after Laurent turned fifteen was when he began having constant nightmares. They happened at least twice a week, and he always awoke from them with the painful, intense feeling of loneliness. Sometimes the feeling would overwhelm him, and he’d roll onto his side, clutching the blanket close around him.</p><p>With an uncle who no longer wanted to be physically and emotionally close to him, an older brother in prison, and both parents deceased, Laurent felt truly alone in the world.</p><p>“Would you like to talk about it?” Paschal asked.</p><p>Laurent knew he wasn’t obligated to talk about anything he didn’t want to. Paschal was a patient and professional person, and he never pressured or pushed Laurent into speaking.</p><p>It had taken a long time for Laurent to feel comfortable enough to openly express his feelings and thoughts to Paschal. However, he still did not mention what Uncle had done to him. He had told nobody in the last three—almost four—years. It was a secret he would take to his grave.</p><p>“It was about my brother,” said Laurent. He stopped tapping his fingers, his hand now resting motionlessly on the couch arm. “We were in the house,” he said, his eyes focused on the framed certificates on the wall behind Paschal, “while there was a thunderstorm outside.” He looked back at Paschal. “It caused the power to go out, and everything went black.”</p><p>The next part included feeling hands belonging to someone Laurent no longer wanted to be touched by, but he didn’t say it. Although everything around him had been dark and soundless, Laurent knew who it was, every time, without question.</p><p>Paschal said nothing, remaining quiet as he waited to see if Laurent would continue.</p><p>Laurent took a slow, deep breath. “When the lights came back on in the room, he was… gone.”</p><p>And Laurent could not simply tell himself after he awoke from that nightmare that it was only a dream, because Auguste’s absence was a reality for him in the real world. The fact that Laurent could not be happy, even in his dreams, was cruel.</p><p>Time passed as they talked, or rather, Paschal asked various questions and Laurent answered them.</p><p>When the session came to an end, Laurent picked his bag up from the floor as he got up from the couch.</p><p>Paschal closed the notebook, placing it on the table with the pen on top of it before he stood. He walked over to the door and opened it for Laurent, his hand on the door knob as he said, “I can schedule another appointment for the same time in two weeks.”</p><p>Laurent nodded, making his way towards the open doorway. “Thank you, Paschal.”</p><p>Paschal also nodded. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Laurent.”</p><p>There were six chairs lining the wall on Laurent’s left when he stepped out of the office and into the hallway.</p><p>Aimeric was sitting at the furthest end. His phone was in one hand in front of him and he was looking down at it with a bored expression, his thumb scrolling down whatever was on the screen. He got to his feet when Paschal called his name, easily slipping the phone into the pocket of his black school blazer as he made eye contact with Laurent.</p><p>Laurent had discovered a long time ago that Aimeric’s father—Guion—was the current warden at the prison. Whether Aimeric was aware that Laurent had a brother in there, Laurent didn’t know, because the topic never came up between them. They rarely talked to one another about their personal lives.</p><p>They were in some of the same classes, because even though Aimeric was one year younger than Laurent, he had skipped a grade when he was in middle school. They’d usually pair up with one another if the teacher wanted everyone to be partnered for work, and they would meet once a week at the local library for a study session, but even still, Laurent would say they were more acquaintances than friends.</p><p>Neither of them said anything as they walked past each other. They didn’t have to; that’s just how they were. Aimeric disappeared into Paschal’s office as Laurent continued walking down the hallway and towards his class.</p><p>-</p><p>The air was chilly when Laurent walked through the school gates, two hours later.</p><p>Music played through his earphones as he walked down the concrete path, but it did very little to drown out the sounds of every other student around him. Although it was exceptionally faster to take the bus home from school, Laurent hated how crowded and noisy it always was on it, so he opted for the forty-five minute walk instead.</p><p>Ideally, he’d take his car—which actually belonged to Auguste—but it was in dire need of an oil change, so Laurent refused to drive it until Uncle took it to a mechanic. If he ever did.</p><p>Laurent hated how he needed to depend on Uncle for things like that, since he would not be eighteen for another four months.</p><p>The strength of the wind picked up, the coldness of it blowing against Laurent’s face and through his hair, which had been kept short ever since he cut it in the bathroom. There were days when Laurent missed keeping it in a braid over his shoulder or the feeling of having his hair pulled back into a ponytail, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it grow out again, so he’d get it trimmed if it got to the point where it was long enough to be tied up.</p><p>The first time he let it grow long, it was because he was mourning his parents. If he had done it again, it would be to mourn the loss of his innocence and the loss of the trust he had given to someone who had taken advantage of it.</p><p>So he kept his hair short.</p><p>-</p><p>Relief flooded through Laurent when the house came into view, and he noticed Uncle’s car was not in the driveway, which was wide enough to park both their cars. Laurent’s was always on the right, as it was now, closest to the wooden fence.</p><p>He didn’t know where Uncle had gone that day, or for how long. He stopped caring a long time ago.</p><p>Laurent wiped his shoes on the doormat as he fished his keys out of his bag. He unlocked the front door, his other hand pausing the music on his phone before pulling out the earphones.</p><p>It was silent in the house as he stepped inside, the only sound coming from his footsteps. He walked past the entry table, grabbing the house phone from it as he did, and made his way to his bedroom</p><p>After getting changed out of his school uniform and into warmer clothes, he gathered the classic book he was currently reading for his English class and the black pen and yellow highlighter that he used to annotate it. He sat on the bed with his back against the solid headboard, his knees raised with the book opened and resting against his thighs.</p><p>Laurent spent the next half hour like that, reading and writing down his annotations in the book, before the phone beside him on the bed began to ring. He didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Closing the book, he picked up the phone and answered it, holding the receiver to his ear.</p><p>“<em>An inmate from Marlas Penitentiary is—</em>”</p><p>Laurent waited for the automated message to finish playing before accepting it. He could hear other inmates in the background as he said, “Hi, Auguste.”</p><p>“Hey, Laurent.” Auguste’s voice became obscured as he spoke again. Laurent opened his mouth, ready to question what was happening when Auguste said, “Sorry, Nik is next to me.” Laurent had noticed Auguste would often refer to Nikandros as Nik. “How was school?”</p><p>“It was okay,” replied Laurent. “You called at a good time.” He looked out the window, watching the trees sway in the wind. “I needed a break from reading.”</p><p>“Oh? What are you reading?” The curiosity in Auguste’s voice was always genuine.</p><p>“It’s a classic novel. You’ve probably never heard of it,” Laurent said, trying to sound nonchalant, but even he could hear the hint of a smile in his voice. There were two shelves on the bookcase in Auguste’s bedroom that were filled with classic books. Each one had been read more than once. Laurent had tried to read a couple of them when he was small, but back then, the writing style had confused him too much.</p><p>Auguste indulged him. “That’s true. Tell me, anyway.”</p><p>“Wuthering Heights.”</p><p>“Have you read the part where—”</p><p>“Don’t spoil it!”</p><p>Auguste laughed. “You know I wouldn’t do that,” he said.</p><p>Laurent moved the book onto the bed and brought his knees closer to his chest, wrapping his free arm around them. “Can I ask you something?” He already knew the answer.</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>“Have you...” He paused, rearranged the wording in his head. His eyes were still focused on the trees. “Is it hard to change the oil in a car?” he asked.</p><p>“Not if you know what you’re doing,” replied Auguste. “Why? Does it need one?”</p><p>“Yes, but Uncle has been too busy to take the car to a mechanic.”</p><p>“Give me one moment, okay?”</p><p>“Okay.” When the noise on the other end went significantly quieter, Laurent assumed Auguste had covered the phone to help mute himself. He closed his eyes and rested the side of his face atop his arm as he waited.</p><p>“Laurent?” came Auguste’s voice.</p><p>“Still here."</p><p>“If Uncle really can’t help you with that anytime soon,” said Auguste, “Nik knows somebody who can come over to the house and do it for free. I can get Nik to tell him everything he needs to bring over.” There was a brief pause. “You’ve actually met him once.”</p><p>Laurent opened his eyes, his brows furrowing. “Who?” he asked, although he already had a feeling who it might be.</p><p>-</p><p>Laurent peered through the gap between the curtains on the living room window as he watched Damen exit his car from where he had parked it on the roadside. Damen opened the trunk, already bringing out tools and equipment.</p><p>Two days had passed since the phone call with Auguste. Uncle had still not returned, which meant he was out of town, most likely meeting with a potential business client for work. He and Laurent had not communicated with each other the whole time.</p><p>Moving away from the window, Laurent went to the front door and opened it. He walked onto the driveway, standing near his own car.</p><p>“Hey,” said Damen, smiling as he walked back up the driveway with two jack stands in one hand and a grey bottle of oil in the other. He placed them on the ground, next to the other things. The sleeves of his red jacket were rolled up.</p><p>“Hi,” said Laurent. It was a cold Sunday morning, and Laurent was dressed in black slacks and a cream coloured turtleneck.</p><p>“How’s your morning been so far?” Damen asked as he rolled the car jack towards the passenger side of Laurent’s car.</p><p>Laurent took a couple of steps back to give Damen more room, and to make sure he wasn’t in the way. “It’s been good,” he replied, watching as Damen worked on putting the first jack stand underneath the car. “Thank you for the help.”</p><p>“Don’t mention it,” said Damen, moving around to the other side of the car. “Auguste has helped Nik out a lot. I don’t mind doing him a favour.”</p><p>Laurent didn’t know what he was referring to, because Auguste still did not talk much about his cellmate, but apparently Nikandros has been speaking to Damen about whatever was going on.</p><p>“I also want to thank you, for that day in the visitation room.” He was glad he finally had the chance to say it in person, even though it happened so long ago.</p><p>“I didn’t do anything.”</p><p>“No,” said Laurent, “but you would have, if Auguste had not gotten to that inmate first.” He could still remember how Damen reacted in that situation.</p><p>“I’m sorry you had to deal with scum like that in the first place,” Damen said, picking up the second stand. He offered it to Laurent. “I can teach you how to do this, if you want.”</p><p>Laurent stared at the stand, then at Damen, then back at it before he reached a hand out to take it. “Where does it go?”</p><p>Damen kneeled down, using the jack to raise the car just like he had done on the other side. “Right here,” he said, using his other hand to point at a particular spot.</p><p>Silently, Laurent went down on one knee beside Damen and placed the stand.</p><p>“Perfect,” said Damen, pulling the jack away.</p><p>The procedure was less complicated than Laurent initially thought it’d be, he realised as Damen talked him through it step by step.</p><p>“Is this what you do for a living?” Laurent asked, passing Damen a bottle of water after they were finished and Damen had packed up everything. “A mechanic, I mean.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Damen said as he took it and twisted the cap off. “Nah, that’s not it.” He took a sip of the water. “I’ll be surprised if you can guess my profession, though.”</p><p>“My next guess was going to be a fitness instructor,” said Laurent, holding his own bottle, unopened, in one hand, “but now I’m having second thoughts.”</p><p>Damen let out a laugh, and it reminded Laurent so much of Auguste’s that it was almost painful to hear it. “I work in a nursing home,” he said, taking another sip, “as a nurse.”</p><p>Laurent gave him an incredulous look. “That… I would not have guessed that,” he said truthfully.</p><p>Damen screwed the cap back on and raised a hand before he ducked into his car, seemingly looking for something. When he emerged, he was holding a piece of paper that he held out to Laurent.</p><p>“If you or your uncle need anything, give me a text or call,” he said. “It’ll be easier this way, instead of you having to go through your brother and Nik to contact me.”</p><p>Laurent looked down at the paper before gingerly taking it from between Damen’s fingers. “Thank you,” he said, folding it in half twice before putting it away in his pants pocket. He wasn’t going to tell Uncle about it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! &lt;3</p><p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Laurent’s favourite bookstore was a fifteen-minute drive from home.</p>
<p>It was a small and cozy shop with dimmed lighting and relaxing piano music constantly playing. Black bookcases completely lined the walls, with the exception of a small section on the right side where the counter was located. There were also three bookcases in the middle of the store, each one low enough that they reached Laurent’s shoulders.</p>
<p>Pushing the door open, Laurent stepped into the store. The door closer stopped it from slamming shut, and it closed quietly behind him.</p>
<p>He had planned on going left to where the newly released books were displayed on the shelving, but he caught sight of a familiar figure at the back of the store. Before he had time to think, his legs were already moving in that direction.</p>
<p>“Morning,” said Laurent, coming to stand beside Damen.</p>
<p>“Oh, hey,” said Damen, turning to face Laurent. “Good morning.” He wore a white short sleeve shirt with a black vest over it and black pants. Around his neck was a purple lanyard with an ID card attached to the clip on it. In his hands were three colouring books. He must have noticed Laurent looking at them, because he said, “A couple of my patients have been enjoying colouring recently, so I’m picking up some books for them.”</p>
<p>Laurent looked up at him, a little surprised. He was fairly sure a nurse didn’t need to go out of their way like that, especially if they were paying out of their own pockets. He still didn’t know Damen too well, but from the very little time they had spent together so far, it was already painfully obvious how much of a caring person Damen was.</p>
<p>Whether it was genuine, or an act like Uncle had put on, Laurent didn’t know. He supposed he would find out eventually.</p>
<p>“That’s nice of you,” said Laurent. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate that.”</p>
<p>“They deserve it,” said Damen. “My patients are some of the sweetest people I’ve met. And this really does help some of them, mentally.” He picked up another book from the shelf. “I even framed a page that one of them coloured for me. I can send you a photo of it later.”</p>
<p>Laurent had texted Damen only once since that Sunday morning, almost three weeks ago, just to make sure the number was correct, and so Damen would also have his.</p>
<p>“Sounds good,” said Laurent. He looked down at the lanyard, then back up to make eye contact. “You’re working today?”</p>
<p>"Yeah,” Damen replied, nodding. “I’m actually going to get some breakfast before I start, if you want to join me? Unless you’ve already got other plans?”</p>
<p>“No, I could eat,” said Laurent. He had left home that morning without making something to eat first. “I’ve got some time to waste.”</p>
<p>“Great. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”</p>
<p>It didn’t take long, because none of the new books that Laurent took a look at interested him. He stood near the counter, making small talk with the manager as he waited for Damen to finish purchasing the books.</p>
<p>“Didn’t find anything you like today?” asked Torveld.</p>
<p>“Unfortunately not,” said Laurent. “Seems like everything I want to read is still on preorder.”</p>
<p>Earlier in the year, Torveld had offered Laurent a job position, since he frequented the store a lot. Laurent wanted to focus on his last year at school and the upcoming exams, and so he had declined, but the offer was always there.</p>
<p>“Well, as always, let me know whenever you want to order them.”</p>
<p>Laurent nodded, turning his head back to check on Damen. He said a polite goodbye to Torveld and made his way over to Damen, the two of them then leaving the store together.</p>
<p>“There’s a place just down the road here that serves some good breakfast,” said Damen, holding the plastic bag by his side.</p>
<p>“The cafe next to the thrift store?” Laurent put his hands inside the pockets of his coat. Winter was ending, but there was still a chillness in the air.</p>
<p>“That’s the one,” said Damen. “You been there before?”</p>
<p>“A couple of times.” The food there was good, but a little on the pricey side.</p>
<p>As they headed down the path, Damen said, “How's the car going, by the way? Hopefully no more troubles with it?”</p>
<p> “No, it’s been good,” he said. “Although I’ve probably just jinxed it.”</p>
<p>Damen laughed at that. “For now, at least, that’s good to hear.”</p>
<p>The walk was short, and soon they were inside the cafe. It was busy for what one would expect on a Saturday morning.</p>
<p>The black square tables were perfectly spaced apart, and they sat at the one closest to the corner, on the light brown rattan chairs. On the wall behind the counter were blackboards with the specials for the day written in white chalk. Hanging from the ceiling were fans and clear spherical light bulbs, which were turned off because the cafe was filled with natural light coming through the tall windows.</p>
<p>Atop the table was a holder with two menus in it, and Laurent reached for one after Damen, who had already placed the bag on the floor, leaning it against the wall beside him.</p>
<p>The silence was comfortable as they each went through the menu, before they finally decided on what to order. Laurent went with the pancakes with extra maple syrup, and Damen got the fried eggs and bacon on toast. They also ordered a jug of water to share.</p>
<p>“Got a bit of a sweet tooth, huh?” Damen said after the waitress had walked away, and crossed his arms on the table. Laurent gave him a sheepish smile, then made a move to reach into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, but Damen stopped him when he said, “Don’t worry, it’s on me.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Thank you,” said Laurent, placing both hands in his lap. His eyes glanced to the lanyard again before he said, “Could I ask how old you are? It’s just... you seem a bit young to be a nurse?”</p>
<p>“I’m twenty-three,” replied Damen. “I got my qualifications as early as I could.”</p>
<p>“What made you want to pursue that kind of career?” asked Laurent, finding himself genuinely curious to know the answer.</p>
<p>“I’ve always had a passion for helping people,” said Damen. “I spent a lot of time taking care of my grandparents before they passed. I was sixteen, maybe seventeen? A couple years after that, my father started having heart problems, and being around the doctors and nurses when he was first admitted into the hospital really inspired me to follow that kind of path. It definitely is a tough job, but it really is rewarding at the end of the day.”</p>
<p>If the timeline was correct in Laurent’s head, that hospital trip was around the time he first met Damen, when Nikandros had asked about his father. Laurent didn’t ask to confirm it, not wanting to pry too much into Damen’s personal life.</p>
<p>Laurent knew there was a look of awe on his face as he stared at Damen. The waitress returned with their meals and drink, placing them on the table. They both thanked her before she left to serve another customer.</p>
<p>“So what are your plans for the day?” Damen asked, picking up a set of utensils from the second holder next to the menus.</p>
<p>Laurent did the same. “I’m going to see Auguste in a couple of hours,” he said, cutting into the stack of pancakes.</p>
<p>Once Laurent had gotten his licence, he and Uncle took their own cars to the prison and would meet each other there. The less time they were alone together, the better. Laurent still had to wait three months before he could visit Auguste on his own, after his eighteenth birthday, which was taking an agonisingly long time to come.</p>
<p>Damen poured them each a glass of water as he said, “How’s he been doing?”</p>
<p>Despite the fact Auguste had essentially wasted the last four years of his life in prison because the real murderer wasn’t confessing? “He’s doing okay.” He took a bite, chewed, swallowed. “And Nikandros?”</p>
<p>“Pretty much the same,” said Damen, taking a sip of water. “He has his bad days, of course, but it’s good that he at least has Auguste there for him.”</p>
<p>“Auguste has always been good at comforting people,” said Laurent, his heart aching as he spoke the words, because it had been impossible for his brother to be there for Laurent whenever he needed him.</p>
<p>Some time passed as they ate and conversed, and Laurent was still oddly surprised that Damen had invited him here with him, even though Damen wasn’t under any obligation to spend his free time with Laurent. Yet here they were.</p>
<p>“Have you been here for live music night?” Damen asked, refilling their glasses, the jug now empty.</p>
<p>Laurent set down his knife and fork and took a look at the raised stage near them, which was revealed by the opened red drapes. The brick wall at the back of it was completely covered with curtain string lights, and a microphone was in its stand at the front of the stage with two spotlights above it on the ceiling. He assumed the musicians needed to provide their own instruments.</p>
<p>Laurent looked back at Damen. “No,” he replied. “Have you?”</p>
<p>“Multiple times,” said Damen. His glass was on the tabletop, his hand wrapped around it. “I won’t be able to make it tonight because of work, but I’m hoping to go next Saturday night. The musical duo scheduled to perform that night are really good. It’s always a fun time.” He picked up the bag, ready to leave. “Text me if you want to come along.”</p>
<p>There was a small pause before Laurent said, “Okay. I’ll think about it.”</p>
<p>“No pressure, of course,” Damen said, standing up. “Say hi to Auguste for me, yeah?”</p>
<p>Laurent nodded. He didn’t move, because he still had a little bit of his meal left to finish. He wasn’t in a rush to leave just yet. “I will,” he said. “Have a good shift at work.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Laurent had been shocked the first time he saw Auguste’s tattoo, one month ago.</p>
<p>The starburst was inked into the skin at his right wrist, under the palm of his hand. The design was simplistic, the lines clean and close to perfect. Nikandros had done a good job with it.</p>
<p>Laurent couldn’t begin to imagine how painful it must have been to get a prison tattoo, especially in that spot. And as far as Laurent knew, this was Auguste’s first tattoo.</p>
<p>It wasn’t uncommon for inmates to get a tattoo, either as a coping mechanism or if they’re part of a gang.</p>
<p>Laurent hoped it wasn’t because of the latter, but the first option saddened him, if that was the reason.</p>
<p>“It’s healed nicely,” said Laurent after their hug. He gave Auguste Damen’s greeting and they both sat across from each other. Laurent instantly hated how close he was to Uncle.</p>
<p>Auguste’s white sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, effectively displaying the tattoo. There were noticeable bags under his eyes.</p>
<p>“I've been awake since around four,” said Auguste, answering Laurent’s unspoken question. “There was a random cell search.”</p>
<p>“They couldn’t wait until a better time to do it?” It was more of a rhetorical question.</p>
<p>“I wish.” Auguste sighed. “Nik is a nightmare to deal with when his sleep pattern is broken.” Laurent smiled, and Auguste asked, “Your exams are coming up, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” replied Laurent. “Don’t worry, I’ve been studying for them.” He wasn’t lying.</p>
<p>“Good luck. I know you’ll do great,” Auguste said, also smiling. He reached a hand across the table to hold Laurent’s. “I’m proud of you. You know that, right?”</p>
<p>He wouldn’t be, if he knew what Laurent had done with Uncle.</p>
<p>Laurent pushed that thought away and nodded.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Later that night, Laurent was in the middle of doing his homework when his phone buzzed.</p>
<p>He was sitting at the desk, which was pushed up against the wall beside his bed. He finished writing his calculations for the current math problem he was working on before setting the pen down and picking up his phone. The earphones were attached to it, and he let his music continue to play as he opened the text from Damen.</p>
<p>Inside was a photo of a mandala design that covered the whole page. There was no coordination of which colours were used; every space was filled with an assortment of colours, as though whoever did it had used every possible pencil they owned. Sometimes the pencil marks went outside of the line.</p>
<p>Even still, Laurent liked it. He couldn’t deny the sweetness of the gesture, that a patient had liked Damen enough to give him this.</p>
<p>There were always stories going around about healthcare workers disrespecting the elderly, but that clearly didn’t apply to Damen.</p>
<p>The frame that the page was in was thin and a dark brown colour, and it was resting on what looked like a bedside table.</p>
<p>Laurent typed out a response and sent it, putting his phone back on the desk so he could focus on finishing his homework. He knew he’d get nowhere with it if he let himself get distracted.</p>
<p>They spent the next few days talking through text messages. Sometimes Damen would mention things that had happened at work, other times Laurent talked about any interesting facts he learned at school.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>By the time Wednesday night came, Laurent had still not decided if he was going to go to the live music night. The idea was tempting, and he would use any excuse to get out of the house if Uncle was there.</p>
<p>Laurent was in the kitchen, his lower back leaning against the edge of the white marble island counter as he waited for the kettle to finish boiling. He looked down at his phone as he passed the time by doing a sudoku puzzle on it. His thumb moved to type in the next number, his face impassive as his eyes scanned the grid for the next possible solution.</p>
<p>Laurent paid no attention when he heard the sound of the front door opening. He put down his phone on the counter before pouring water into a black mug. He finished making his tea and placed the mug on a coaster, picking up his phone to resume the puzzle as he waited for his drink to cool down.</p>
<p>Uncle finished his phone call as he entered the kitchen. Laurent ignored him, going to the fridge and opening it with his free hand to grab an apple. When he closed the door, he noticed Uncle was looking at him. He stared back, waiting, and there was a long moment where neither of them spoke.</p>
<p>Slowly, Laurent placed the fruit next to the mug, his eyes still on Uncle.</p>
<p>“Your brother was taken to the hospital earlier today,” Uncle finally said, putting his phone away. “Apparently he was attacked. I’m not surprised, really.” He walked off, leaving Laurent alone in the kitchen.</p>
<p>Laurent was frozen where he stood, finding it hard to breathe.</p>
<p>To have to go to a hospital, and not the prison infirmary... it must have been a serious injury.</p>
<p>He gripped the corner of the counter to stop himself from falling to his knees.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Poor Auguste just can’t catch a break :')</p>
<p>Thank you for all of the support so far! Seriously, it means a lot that people actually take the time out of their day to read this fic and comment &lt;3 </p>
<p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>! (where I recently posted an “<a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/post/630420034325446656/alternative-scene-to-the-beginning-of-beg-my">alternative scene</a>” to the start of chapter one lmao)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Laurent didn’t go to school for the rest of the week.</p><p>He knew next to nothing about Auguste’s current condition in the hospital, and that fact made him feel so sick with worry that he couldn’t even manage to get through a single meal. He’d take a few bites, then the dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach would intensify, and he’d have to put the cutlery down after completely losing his appetite.</p><p>It was late afternoon on Friday, which was around the time Laurent would usually be at the library with Aimeric for their study session. He’d cancelled, since he was not in the right mindset to be able to focus on studying.</p><p>Sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and his head tilted back to rest against the mattress, Laurent stared up at the ceiling. His right arm was limp by his side, his phone held loosely in his hand. The palm of his left hand was flat against his stomach, his fingers bent ever so slightly to dig his nails in. It wasn’t enough pressure to hurt.</p><p>His thoughts soon drifted to his childhood, to a time when his parents were still alive and happily married. It had always been obvious how blissfully in love they were with each other, and how much they loved their own two children.</p><p>Laurent remembered the little moments, like when his mother would take him with her to go grocery shopping, or how he sometimes spent his weekends out in the backyard to watch her do the gardening as he sat under the lemon tree. Every time she’d bake a dessert, his attempts to help more often than not lead to a messy kitchen. But she never got mad at him for it, always laughing it off instead.</p><p>His father’s work had required him to travel out of the country every so often, and when he returned home, he would always have a souvenir for Laurent and Auguste. Laurent looked back on the nights when he’d sit in the study room with him, an opened book in his lap as he sat on the couch and read while his father worked at his desk.</p><p>And then there was his uncle, who was a whole other story. No matter how desperately Laurent wanted to try and forget, the past and what happened between them would always be there.</p><p>His nails dug in more.</p><p>When Laurent began to think about his brother again, he had to lift his left hand to wipe away the tears threatening to fall.</p><p>There had been a time when Laurent lived in a home surrounded by love and comfort and support, and it had all steadily been taken away from him.</p><p>Sighing, Laurent stood up and sat on the edge of the bed. His neck felt stiff from the position it had been in for the last forty minutes, his hand coming up to rub the back of it in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Bringing his phone up in front of him with his other hand, he used his thumb to type in the passcode.</p><p>Laurent opened Damen’s text messages that had been sent earlier in the day. Nikandros must have already told Damen about the attack, because he was checking up on Laurent. He had read the messages as soon as he got them, but his fingers would tremble every time he tried to type a response.</p><p>Laurent brought up the page with Damen’s contact information, his thumb hovering over the call button. Damen had mentioned he wasn’t working that day—or during the weekend—and so he’d be able to answer his phone if Laurent wanted to call and talk.</p><p>Biting his bottom lip, Laurent tapped the button. It rang four times before Damen picked up.</p><p>“Hey. How are you doing?” Damen asked. His voice didn’t have quite the same cheery tone that Laurent was used to hearing. He sounded more... worried? Concerned?</p><p>“I’m hanging in there,” said Laurent, because anything was easier than admitting how he was truly feeling.</p><p>“I’m sorry about...” Damen trailed off. “Auguste will be alright.”</p><p>Laurent’s grip on his phone tightened slightly. He badly wanted to believe that. “Does Nikandros know how it happened?” He laid back on the bed with his feet still planted on the floor.</p><p>There was a pause before Damen said, “He does.” Another pause. “He was there.”</p><p>Laurent closed his eyes. He wanted to know everything, yet he didn’t think his heart could handle hearing it. He also wasn’t sure if Damen would tell him. “Is Nikandros okay?”</p><p>“He’s fine,” said Damen. “Just needed some stitches in his arm. You can call him Nik, you know.”</p><p>Laurent used his free hand to grip the blanket by his side. He didn’t want to think about what Auguste would need for his injuries.</p><p>“I don’t know him that well to use his small name.” When Damen laughed, he asked, “What’s funny about that?”</p><p>“You’ve always used mine.”</p><p>“I...” This time it was Laurent’s turn to pause. “I wasn’t aware.” He was surprised that his lips had tugged into a small smile when Damen laughed again. For one split moment, he had momentarily forgotten everything bad that was going on.</p><p>“It’s Damianos, by the way, but I prefer my friends to call me Damen.”</p><p>“Friends.” Is that what they were? He swallowed, then said, “About tomorrow night—”</p><p>“I’ll understand if you don’t want to go.”</p><p>“I think,” said Laurent, “I need a good distraction. What time does it start?”</p><p>“Seven,” answered Damen, “but people usually show up at least fifteen minutes before.”</p><p>“I’ll text you tomorrow and let you know. I should go make something to eat,” he said, feeling his stomach rumble. Maybe this time, he’ll be able to handle eating. “Thanks for talking with me.”</p><p>-</p><p>Laurent was in the mood to walk, so he decided not to drive to the cafe. But to solely walk there would take far too long, so he walked for the first half, then got on the bus for the rest of the journey.</p><p>Getting off at the bus stop two blocks away from the shop, Laurent adjusted his light grey infinity scarf as he began to walk along the path.</p><p>This part of Marlas was always busy on weekend nights, and so various stores that Laurent passed on the way were still opened with customers inside. Some were busier than others.</p><p>When he turned the corner, the cafe came into view on the other side of the street. All six tables at the front of the shop were already occupied, and Laurent felt himself hesitate before he pressed the pedestrian crossing button, then put his hands in his pants pockets with his thumbs sticking out.</p><p>It didn’t feel right for him to go out, to act as if nothing was wrong, like his brother wasn’t in a critical condition. He knew Auguste wouldn’t want him to feel that way, would want Laurent to keep living his life. But it was hard, to pretend like anything in his life was okay while he treated himself to one night of fun.</p><p>The pedestrian light turned green, and Laurent walked across the street. There was a bit of foot traffic as he walked down the concrete path, passing the bookstore on the way.</p><p>Laurent ended up arriving at the cafe ten minutes earlier than planned, he noticed after he sat down and checked his phone for the time. The table that he and Damen had sat at for breakfast was free, and so that’s the spot he picked.</p><p>Phone still in hand, he sent Damen a text to let him know he was already there. He stared down at the screen, his thumb scrolling through their previous messages, then startled when the seat across from him was pulled back. He looked up, realising it was Damen before he locked his phone and put it away.</p><p>“You’re early,” Damen said as he sat down.</p><p>“I would have been late if I took the next bus,” said Laurent.</p><p>“Oh no,” said Damen with a smile. “Did you actually jinx your car?”</p><p>“No, everything is okay with it,” Laurent said, his fingers on one hand playing with the hem of his black sweater. “I wasn’t particularly in the mood to drive, even though it’s obviously more convenient.”</p><p>“Cheaper, too,” said Damen, “especially after the recent price hike for petrol.”</p><p>“Right?” Laurent forced himself to stop touching the fabric and let his fingers interlock when he placed his hands in his lap. “It’s bad enough it previously cost an arm and a leg to afford it.”</p><p>Damen grinned, getting his phone out. “Oh, it seems you’re here.”</p><p>Laurent had almost forgotten about the text he sent not so long ago. He felt his cheeks start to warm, his own smile appearing on his face. Then the dreadful feeling that he had gone through yesterday returned, and it took a great deal of effort not to let it show.</p><p>The lights in the cafe had been dimmed to give the main focus to the stage, where the spotlights were turned on. Two microphones had been set up, each with a wooden four-legged stool behind them. The fairy lights on the back wall of the stage were also on, the small bulbs giving off a warm white glow.</p><p>Damen suggested they get a couple baskets of food to share, since Laurent had mentioned he wasn’t hungry enough to eat a full meal. In addition to the jug of water, Damen ordered himself a bottle of beer. Even if Laurent were old enough to drink, he would have declined one. Damen had insisted on paying for everything, and so Laurent wanted to be the one to leave a tip.</p><p>Every table in the cafe was filled by the time their order arrived. Laurent’s posture was straight and one leg was crossed over the other as he picked at the fries, taking more time than was necessary to bite into them. Damen took a couple sips of his beer as they both focused their attention towards the stage.</p><p>Conversations around the shop hushed to a whisper when two men walked onto the stage. They each took a seat on the stools before introducing themselves to the crowd as Kallias and Erasmus. If Laurent had to guess, he’d say the two were close in age.</p><p>In Kallias’ hands was a red acoustic guitar. He raised a hand to better adjust the microphone in front of him before putting it back on the instrument. His dark hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, his fringe framing both sides of his face. Laurent was close enough to the stage to be able to see the beauty mark on his cheek which drew attention to his blue eyes.</p><p>Meanwhile, Erasmus was holding onto his own microphone with both hands. His grip was loose, relaxed, and his smile was shy when he glanced at Kallias. His hair was a tumble of neat light brown curls, his eyes close in colour.</p><p>The last bits of conversations died down, and then the only sound came from the guitar as Kallias began to play. He was a very skilled guitarist, Laurent thought as he listened to the soft melody. That went on for at least one minute until Erasmus opened his mouth and spoke, reciting a poem that Laurent didn’t recognise.</p><p>It ended after a few minutes and everyone applauded. Once it was quiet again, Kallias announced they would be performing a new song they had written together.</p><p>Erasmus’ silvery voice resounded around the shop when he began to sing. There were times throughout the song when Kallias would also sing the line with Erasmus, their voices complimenting one another.</p><p>It was a love song, and Laurent suspected there was something between the two, judging by the way they looked at each other whenever they sang in perfect harmony.</p><p>Laurent’s elbow was on the table, his cheek resting in the palm of his hand. He couldn’t help but to sneak a peek at Damen. He looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself, and Laurent felt the same way. Damen’s head turned just enough to meet his eyes, and Laurent quickly looked back towards the stage.</p><p>The night had been enough to help Laurent’s thoughts drift elsewhere, to drift to literally anything other than the worrying thoughts that had been with him since that night in the kitchen when he had been told the news.</p><p>The performance finished after the last song, half an hour later. The crowd cheered as Kallias gave a wave to everyone before he stood, taking the three steps to Erasmus to wrap an arm around his shoulders, the guitar by his side in his other hand.</p><p>“You were right,” Laurent said, turning to face Damen. His hand lowered from his face. “They are good.” He stacked their empty dishes and cutlery into a pile before standing.</p><p>Damen made a sound of agreement before he also stood. “I can give you a lift home, if you’d like.”</p><p>“You don’t need to trouble yourself,” Laurent said as they both made their way out of the cafe.</p><p>Dark clouds had formed in the night sky, and light raindrops were already beginning to fall as they stepped onto the sidewalk.</p><p>“Or,” said Laurent, bringing his scarf up to the lower part of his face when there was a strong, sudden gust of wind, “maybe you could.”</p><p>Laurent kept his scarf held up in his hand, enjoying the warmth it provided as they walked. It was only when they reached the carpark after a two-minute walk did he let it fall against his chest. He opened the passenger door and entered the car after Damen unlocked it with a beep.</p><p>“Do you need to stop anywhere on the way?” Damen asked, getting inside.</p><p>Laurent shook his head as he buckled the seatbelt. The rain picked up, becoming heavier, and Laurent watched the large drops patter against the windscreen.</p><p>“Thank you for tonight,” said Laurent, letting his head fall back against the headrest. His hand came up to clutch at the seatbelt by his chest. “It really was fun.”</p><p>For a moment, the only sound around them came from the rain.</p><p>“It was,” Damen finally said. He had one hand on the steering wheel, his thumb silently tapping against it. The car key was in his other hand, in his lap. “We should do it again, or anything else you’re interested in doing.”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Laurent. His body was starting to feel exhausted from all of the emotional pain he had gone through these past few days. “I’d like that.”</p><p>When Laurent smiled, it was real.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading &lt;3</p><p>The next chapter will be posted in two weeks, then hopefully I'll be able to go back to weekly updates.</p><p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This doesn’t make any sense,” Damen said, looking down at the page.</p><p>“You’re a nurse,” Laurent said, giving him a look. “Numbers should be at least a little easy for you.”</p><p>They were sitting beside each other at a park table, taking a break from their Sunday morning walk. A sudoku book that Laurent had packed in his bag was open on the wooden table in front of them.</p><p>It was nearing the end of the second month of spring, and with the nice weather picking up, going for walks together had become part of their routine. The sky was clear and blue that morning with not a single cloud in it to hide the sun.</p><p>“Converting units so I can give my patients the correct dose of medicine and figuring out where numbers go in a grid aren’t exactly the same thing,” said Damen.</p><p>Humming, Laurent flipped through the pages. “Here, try this one,” he said, sliding the book closer to Damen, then giving him the blue pen he had been holding. “There’s only one number missing from the middle block, so I’m sure even you can figure out which one it is.”</p><p>Damen gave him a mock laugh, then said, “I still can’t believe you use pen instead of pencil.” He wrote down the number four in the empty box. “What if you make a mistake?”</p><p>Laurent smiled, his eyes already scanning the page for another solution. “Sometimes you need to live life dangerously.”</p><p>Damen lightly tapped the pen against the paper. “Nik would have given up on this after five seconds.”</p><p>“Auguste was always more into crosswords,” said Laurent, restlessly waiting for Damen to see the obvious spot where the number six could go in the top right box of the grid.</p><p>“I’d have an easier time with that than this.”</p><p>“I think I’d have an easier time watching you do that instead,” said Laurent. “Did you know there are advanced strategies people use to help solve the fiendish and diabolical levels?”</p><p>“No way,” Damen said, as though in disbelief.</p><p>“It’s true,” said Laurent, silently thankful when Damen managed to write down the next number. “There’s the X-Wing, the Swordfish, and the XY Wing. There are a few more, too, but I’m still trying to understand and learn those. Though what I’ve seen from the videos I’ve watched, they look super helpful.” When he looked up, he noticed Damen staring at him. “What?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Damen said, smiling. “It’s just nice to see you talk so passionately about something you like.”</p><p>They left the table after Damen finished the puzzle, twenty minutes later. They stuck to the cobblestone path, passing multiple gardens of fully bloomed flowers and a large three-tier white marble fountain that was in the middle of the park.</p><p>At one point they walked by a large, colourful playground on their right. Children ran around the bark surrounding it, others climbing to the top to wait to use the tunnel slide. Parents were standing off to the side as they gossiped among each other while keeping an eye on their children.</p><p>Laurent’s hand was on the strap of his shoulder bag, his grip tightening when he thought about how his own mother used to take him there when he was younger. Sometimes he had gotten shy so he hid behind her whenever a kid he didn’t know asked to play with him.</p><p>There was another park on the walk home from school that she would take him to if he asked. He would sit on one of the two swings there, carefully being pushed back and forth by her while she asked him about his day at school.</p><p>Before Laurent could drown further in his thoughts, Damen asked, “Has your uncle signed the papers yet?” He had also been looking towards the playground, but turned his head to face forward again when he spoke.</p><p>“He’s going to the prison tomorrow afternoon before his flight,” Laurent replied.</p><p>During the last phone call, one week ago, it had been Auguste who asked Uncle to give Damen permission to take Laurent to visitation. Laurent didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen, that a guardian could let somebody else bring a minor with them instead.</p><p>“It seems like all he ever does is travel for work.”</p><p>“Yes, he does work a lot,” said Laurent, not that he cared. Wanting to change the subject, he then asked, “How was your last shift?”</p><p>“I completely forgot to tell you,” Damen said. He sounded excited, and Laurent was curious as to why. “So, I’m in charge of this woman who moved in last week. She’s in her eighties, and she’s been telling me all of these stories about her younger days. When she was in her twenties, she used to be a ballerina who once got to dance for the Queen of Ios.”</p><p>Laurent’s brows rose in surprise. “That’s actually really fascinating,” he said.</p><p>“I know right? On the wall in her room is a framed photo from that moment.”</p><p>“You must have heard so many stories from all your patients.”</p><p>“Oh, definitely,” said Damen. “I love seeing their faces light up whenever they reminisce, because some of them don’t have anybody to visit and I often see how lonely they can get.”</p><p>Laurent didn’t want to think how Auguste would feel if he were to suddenly stop coming to see him. “Not even their family?” he asked, his brows now furrowing.</p><p>“The sad truth is that some people are waiting for them to pass so they can claim their inheritance, or they think that keeping them in a home is too much effort, and never bother with visiting,” Damen said as they walked past the sprinklers watering a patch of grass on their left. “I feel sorry for those few patients who don’t have anybody, but if I can be their ear and listen to them, or just be there for them, I’m more than happy to do that. They’re very lovely people.”</p><p>Laurent opened his mouth to speak, but found himself having trouble finding the right words to express how he felt about that. The exit of the park was up ahead, and as they approached it, he said, “I have a lot of respect for what you do, Damen.” And for him as a person.</p><p>“Thank you.” When they turned to face each other, Damen was smiling at him. “You’re very mature for your age.”</p><p>
  <i>Would you stop talking to me if you knew why?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Would you be as disgusted with me as I am with myself?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Would you want nothing to do with me?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Would you regret ever meeting me?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Would you—</i>
</p><p>Laurent returned the smile as best as he could muster. “What do you feel like having for lunch?” he asked.</p><p>“I was going to ask you the same thing.”</p><p>“I could go for some rice.”</p><p>“You know what? That sounds amazing right now.”</p><p>-</p><p>When Laurent entered the room, it took everything in him not to run straight to the booth.</p><p>Extra stools had been installed since the last time Laurent was there, allowing two people to sit at each booth instead of one. He sat down with Damen to his left, the two waiting while Laurent tapped his fingers against his knees.</p><p>The last time Laurent saw Auguste was before the attack. There had been phone calls here and there, during the late stages of the recovery, which is when Laurent found out the attack only happened because Auguste had stopped another inmate from being assaulted.</p><p>When Auguste came into view, the scar was impossible to miss. It started from the corner of his mouth, and ran diagonally along to his jawline. Looking at it, it was clearly obvious why hospital treatment had been necessary.</p><p>Laurent knew about the scarring, that there was also one on Auguste’s shoulder, but he still didn’t feel prepared enough when he saw it on Auguste’s face.</p><p>His fingernails dug into his knees as he looked at it, until Damen picked up the phone and handed it to him. Lifting one hand, Laurent took it and pressed it to his ear, making eye contact with Auguste.</p><p>Physically, Auguste had changed in small ways over the years: his hair now went past his shoulders and was kept down, there was a tattoo on his wrist, his arms were toned.</p><p>And now there was a permanent scar in a place where it couldn’t be hidden.</p><p>“I’m so happy to finally see you again,” said Auguste. His smile was bittersweet as he offered a wave, both Laurent and Damen returning it.</p><p>“Me too,” Laurent said. He could feel how weak his own smile was, and he hated it, because he was filled with so much joy at the sight of his brother <i>alive</i> and in front of him, yet he was having trouble properly portraying that feeling.</p><p>“Uncle’s been going on a lot of business trips these last couple of months, huh?” said Auguste. “Doesn’t it get lonely at home?”</p><p>Yes, but not because it was Uncle’s company that Laurent was desperately missing.</p><p>Laurent shrugged and said, “It’s nice to have the house to myself sometimes.” He forced himself not to stare at the scar. “We don’t have to talk about... you know.”</p><p>“The elephant in the room?” When Laurent didn’t speak, he said, “I can tell you one good thing that came out of this.”</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>“The food I had in hospital was so much better than what they serve here. I wish I were exaggerating when I say it was like having a five-star meal. Actually, both of those are better than my own cooking.”</p><p>It hadn’t been what Laurent expected to hear, and he let out a laugh, quickly putting a hand over his mouth to try to muffle it. When he lowered it, he said, “That’s terrible. I shouldn’t laugh at that.” He could see from his peripheral vision that Damen was giving him a questioning look, so he repeated it to him.</p><p>“It’s good to see you two are getting along well,” Auguste said, his smile widening.</p><p>Laurent’s head became filled with thoughts about how Auguste’s appearance may have changed, but he still acted the same way he always did. Or, at the very least, he did around Laurent.</p><p>His eyes drifting to Damen, he said, “He’s okay, I guess.”</p><p>“Hey,” said Damen, pretending to sound taken aback, “are you two talking about me?”</p><p>“Did you enjoy doing sudoku the other day?” Laurent asked, then looked back at Auguste. “Because it’s the same answer.”</p><p>Auguste groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re still torturing people by making them do that ridiculous puzzle,” he said.</p><p>“At least Damen made it through one completely without trying to cheat by looking at the answers at the back of the book.”</p><p>“I like that idea,” said Damen, and Laurent resisted the urge to shoot him a glare.</p><p>“I can’t believe how much you’ve grown,” said Auguste, sighing.</p><p>The sudden change of topic almost threw Laurent off, and his fingers around the phone tightened.</p><p>“It feels like only yesterday you were born and I got to hold you for the first time in my arms. You used to be so little. Cried a lot, too.”</p><p>“Babies cry, Auguste. That’s not anything new,” said Laurent, quickly stopping himself from pouting.</p><p>Auguste’s laugh was small before he said, “Time flies too quickly. Now there’s just under one month until your eighteenth. Do you have any plans for it?”</p><p>“Apart from wanting to come see you?”</p><p>“I suppose you’ll be able to start doing that on your own, won’t you?” Auguste hummed, then said, “I’m not going anywhere, Laurent. You’ll have plenty of time to visit, so I want you to enjoy your special day, okay?”</p><p>Laurent frowned at how easily Auguste said that. “I don’t have any plans, then.”</p><p>“You still have some time to think of something.” Auguste’s eyes went to Damen, then back to Laurent. “Could I talk to him for a moment?”</p><p>Laurent nodded, passing the phone over to Damen. “He wants to talk to you.”</p><p>Damen held the phone, staying quiet as he listened. It was odd for Laurent to see Auguste’s lips moving, but not hear what he was saying.</p><p>“Oh, really? I had no idea.” Damen paused, nodding along as Auguste spoke again, which ended with the both of them laughing. “Wow, he did? That’s adorable.” Another pause as Auguste said a few words with a smile. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, thanks. I’m glad there were no complications during your recovery, by the way.”</p><p>Remaining silent, Laurent looked between the two men.</p><p>“Yeah, tell him I’ll come visit in a couple days if I’m not working. I’ll talk to you later,” he said, handing the phone back to Laurent.</p><p>They talked for the remainder of their time together, until Laurent looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed it was time for them to leave. When Auguste lifted a hand to place it against the window, Laurent did the same with a smile.</p><p>“Bye, Auguste. I love you.”</p><p>“Love you, Laurent. See you next time.”</p><p>They both stood at the same time, Laurent hesitating as he put the phone back on the wall because he didn’t want to go. Damen stood as well, and Laurent followed him out of the room after a final wave to Auguste.</p><p>The walk out of the prison was quiet, and it wasn’t until they got into Damen’s car that Laurent said, “He’s not a murderer.”</p><p>Damen was in the middle of putting on his seat belt when he paused. He was silent for a moment, unmoving. “Do you know why Nik is in there?”</p><p>“I thought it might have been rude to ask.”</p><p>Damen turned in his seat to face Laurent. “His vehicle was the same model as a getaway car that was used after a robbery. Nothing about the case made sense, yet he was still the one pinned for it. A witness even came forward and said they saw a different number plate.”</p><p>Laurent’s hand was gripping his own seat belt before he slowly pulled on it and buckled it.</p><p>“I grew up with Nik,” said Damen. “I know he’s not the type to do something like that, but people unfortunately do get falsely accused all the time.”</p><p>“It’s not fair,” said Laurent, the words coming out in a whisper.</p><p>They stopped by the cafe for a late breakfast.</p><p>“So you really have no plans for your birthday?” Damen asked, ripping open the sachet and pouring the sugar into his mug of coffee.</p><p>“I don’t,” replied Laurent, lifting his own mug of tea with both hands. He took a sip, lowered it back to the table.</p><p>Damen took a spoon and used it to stir his drink. “Why don’t you do something with your uncle?”</p><p>“He’ll be in Chastillon.”</p><p>“Chastillon? That’s rather far, even for a business trip.”</p><p>Laurent moved the strawberry around on his plate with the fork as he said, “He’s going to meet up with an important client, so it can’t be helped. It doesn’t bother me, really.”</p><p>“We could do something.”</p><p>Laurent looked up at him. “Does this have anything to do with what Auguste told you?”</p><p>“Hmm. Maybe.”</p><p>“Surprise me, then.”</p><p>-</p><p>One week later, Laurent went to the cemetery.</p><p>It was large enough that it could have roads inside of it to drive on to navigate to each section. Laurent always entered from the north side, through the open black iron wrought gates.</p><p>The first grave he usually visited was Halvik’s.</p><p>Laurent looked down at the white marble tombstone before going down on one knee in front of it, placing the flowers in the pot on the right side. There were times when he suspected he was the only one to visit since the pot on the left was always empty.</p><p>
  <i>I know he didn’t do it.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Let me be right about that.</i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>Please.</i>
</p><p>Laurent stood and brushed off the bits of dirt and grass from the fabric of his pants. He stared down, reading the inscription half a dozen times with a tightness in his chest before going back to his car.</p><p>He drove a little further into the cemetery and parked the car on the roadside, near the aisle his parents were in. The unscented tealight candles and box of matches were already in the pocket of his burgundy jumper, and he grabbed the flower bouquet from the passenger seat before getting out.</p><p>It was almost hard to believe sometimes that at one point, on the day his parents had been buried, this particular area was still new with mostly dirt plots waiting to be filled. Now, it was like walking through a sea of graves; the plots were quickly occupied over the years.</p><p>Stopping in front of the grave, Laurent took out the dead flowers from the pot located at the end of the black granite slab, then placed the new bunch in there. It obviously would be a better idea to use fake flowers, but Laurent preferred to use real ones, and he didn’t mind needing to change them over whenever he visited.</p><p>He walked around the left side to open the lantern directly in front of the headstone, taking his time with putting a candle inside it, lighting the wick, then closing it before doing the same on the right.</p><p>When Laurent stood at the end of the grave again, he was silent as he looked at the headstone. His father’s portrait and inscription were on the right of it, his mother’s on the left.</p><p>One of the hardest things Laurent ever had to witness in his life was watching both their caskets being lowered, one after the other.</p><p>He still remembered how tightly he had clutched Auguste’s hand as they stood beside each other, neither of them holding back their tears.</p><p>Today marked nine years since they both lost their parents.</p><p>Laurent took a sudden, deep breath.</p><p>After running his fingertips along the cold surface, he picked up the old flowers and turned to walk back down the aisle, where he lifted the green lid of the bin and dropped them in there before getting into his car.</p><p>He sat there with his back against the seat, staring forward at one spot on the nearby tree trunk. His hands came up to grip the top of the steering wheel for a minute before he leaned forward, his arms now crossed with his forehead resting atop them. His breaths were slow and shallow, his eyes closing.</p><p>It was a wonder Laurent’s heart was still intact; it should have burst from all the pain coursing through its veins.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading!</p><p>I’m super happy people are already liking the Laurent and Damen moments because those are a lot of fun to write &lt;3</p><p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If someone had told Laurent when he was younger that he’d be spending the afternoon of his eighteenth birthday making a prison cake, he wouldn’t have believed it.</p>
<p>“This part takes too long,” said Laurent, picking up an oreo. He split it apart, using a spoon to scoop out the filling and letting it fall into the black ceramic bowl.</p>
<p>“Trust me, it’ll be worth it in the end,” said Auguste, his voice coming through the speaker from the house phone, which Laurent had placed on the benchtop near him since his hands were occupied.</p>
<p>“It’ll be my next birthday by the time I finish doing this.”</p>
<p>“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Auguste said before laughing.</p>
<p>“Just so you know,” said Laurent as he put the two biscuit pieces into a sandwich bag and picked up another oreo from the packet to repeat the process, “I’m going to cheat by using a rolling pin to crush this.”</p>
<p>“Struggling is what makes it taste better.”</p>
<p>“I’ll pass, thank you. What do you use instead?”</p>
<p>“A soda can works best.”</p>
<p>“Won’t it go bad afterwards from being rolled around?”</p>
<p>“Yep, but soda is like gold in here, so there’s always somebody willing to buy them.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” Laurent finished with the last biscuit before zipping up the bag.</p>
<p>“So you still don’t know what Damen has planned for tonight?”</p>
<p>“All I know is that we’re going to the music night and having dinner there at the cafe, but I’m not sure what we’re doing after that.” He pulled open the drawer underneath the bench and took out the wooden rolling pin. When he put it on the benchtop, he used his index finger to mindlessly push it back and forth slowly. “I did ask for it to be a surprise, though.”</p>
<p>“You trust him that much?”</p>
<p>Laurent wasn’t sure whether or not to be shocked by how easily the answer came to him. “Yes.” He paused, his finger sliding off to tap the benchtop instead. “I’m... really looking forward to tonight.”</p>
<p>“That’s good to hear.” The smile was obvious in Auguste’s voice. “You’ll have a lot of fun, Laurent.”</p>
<p>
  <i>I wish you were here to celebrate with us.</i>
</p>
<p>“I know,” Laurent said, picking up the rolling pin. He used it to crush the biscuits in the bag until there were no big chunks left, most of it looking like dust, before pouring it all into a square plastic container.</p>
<p>They continued to talk as Laurent opened the bottle of pepsi, pouring a little into the container and then using a spoon to mix it together.</p>
<p>“You’re sure this will be edible?” Laurent asked, a little unsure.</p>
<p>“Surprisingly, it is.”</p>
<p>Laurent added a little more of the drink and finished stirring the batter before he asked, “How long do I cook it for?”</p>
<p>“Three minutes should be long enough.”</p>
<p>He opened the microwave door and put the container inside. As it cooked, he made the frosting using the filling he had taken out of the biscuits, some hot water, and butter.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe someone thought of putting all of these together,” said Laurent, watching the timer on the microwave, “or the fact that it works.”</p>
<p>“People get very creative in here when it comes to food.”</p>
<p>By the time the microwave beeped, they had to say their goodbyes. Laurent sighed heavily after the call ended. He put the cake in the fridge to cool it down before cleaning the minimal mess in the kitchen, occasionally checking his watch for the time. There were still fifteen minutes until Damen came to pick him up.</p>
<p>After washing the last dish and drying his hands, Laurent took the cake back out. He kept it in the container as he applied the frosting, then took a photo of it on his phone which he would later print out and send in a letter to Auguste.</p>
<p>Holidays—birthdays especially—were always hard. They got easier over time, but no matter how small the pain was, it always hurt.</p>
<p>Putting the lid on the container, Laurent put it back in the fridge, planning on having it later.</p>
<p>He made his way to his bedroom to get changed, checking his appearance in the tall mirror against the wall. He touched the ends of his hair, noticing he would need to get it trimmed soon.</p>
<p>Just as Laurent was tying the laces of his boots, he heard Damen’s car coming down the street.</p>
<p>Laurent had never cared much about his birthday in the recent years, had always thought of it as just another day, yet he couldn’t stop the feeling of excitement.</p>
<p>Looking at his appearance in the mirror one last time, he left the house, locking the door behind him.</p>
<p>Damen had parked his car beside Laurent’s in the driveway. Laurent approached the passenger door and opened it, getting inside.</p>
<p>“Happy birthday,” said Damen with a smile, handing him a gift wrapped in black.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” said Laurent, accepting it. The shape was rectangular and he held it in both hands in his lap, running his thumb over one edge of it. “You didn’t have to—”</p>
<p>“Everyone should be spoiled on their birthday,” Damen said. “You can thank Auguste for this one, though, since he gave me the idea.”</p>
<p>Laurent’s thumb stilled, his grip with both hands tightening just barely. He moved his fingers to peel part of the wrapping paper back, a flush appearing on his face when he saw what was inside. “Auguste told you about this?”</p>
<p>“What?” Damen asked, sounding innocent. “About how you wanted to learn magic after seeing Volo, so your parents got you a magic kit for your seventh birthday? And you dressed up as a magician, with the top hat and white gloves and everything?”</p>
<p>
  <i>“Wow, he did? That’s adorable.”</i>
</p>
<p>Damen had said that, only weeks ago, at visitation.</p>
<p>Laurent wanted to bury his reddened face in his hands. Instead, he lifted the autobiography. On the cover of the book was an image of Volo, who had always been Laurent’s favourite magician.</p>
<p>“It’s signed, too,” said Damen.</p>
<p>Laurent opened the book, and there on the first page was indeed a signature in black ink. “I...” He closed it, lowering it back into his lap. “I was so mesmerised, the first time I saw him on stage.” His eyes were kept on the book as he spoke. “I practised for two whole days on this one trick where you make a coin disappear. He made it look so easy.”</p>
<p>“And? Were you able to master it?”</p>
<p>“I thought I had.” He laughed a little. “The coin ended up on the floor after it fell out of my sleeve. Auguste had laughed so hard there were tears.” He turned his head to look at Damen. “Again, thank you. I love it.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>When Laurent walked into the cafe with Damen, he thought it would be like any other music night they had attended together. They picked their table, ordered their meals, waited for the performance to start.</p>
<p>And then Kallias and Erasmus were waving specifically at him from where they sat on their stools on the stage, both with a toothy smile as they wished him a happy birthday. Following that were whoops and claps from the crowd.</p>
<p>Laurent flushed hard from all of the sudden attention. He could feel the eyes of the other customers on him, and he looked across the table at Damen. He heard the first strum of the guitar by Kallias, heard Erasmus’ voice as he sang the first few words of one of Laurent’s favourite songs by them.</p>
<p>“Surprise,” Damen said, just loud enough for Laurent to hear.</p>
<p>Laurent opened his mouth with the intention of asking how Damen managed to organise this, but decided it was a question best saved for later, and he looked back towards the stage.</p>
<p>When he pressed his fingertips against one cheek, he could feel just how warm his skin had become.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>With summer approaching, the air was humid when they left the cafe.</p>
<p>Laurent rolled up the long white sleeves of his shirt that he wore underneath his blue argyle sweater vest as they walked down the path.</p>
<p>“It’ll be about a forty-five-minute drive to the next place,” said Damen, “if you still want to go, of course.”</p>
<p>“I do. You still won’t tell me where we’re going?”</p>
<p>“Would you like me to?”</p>
<p>“No.” He hated how quickly he had said the word. He cleared his throat. “No, it’s okay. I’ve gone this long without knowing. I can wait a little longer.”</p>
<p>When they got inside the car, Laurent rolled down the window on his side a couple of inches. He sat back, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of the breeze against his face and through his hair as Damen drove.</p>
<p>They listened to the songs playing on the radio, most of which Laurent didn’t know but Damen did since he was humming along to a couple of them.</p>
<p>Laurent hadn’t planned on falling asleep, so he was confused when there was a light touch on his shoulder and he heard his name being called. Blinking, he rubbed one eye with the back of his hand and sat up straighter in his seat.</p>
<p>And then he saw it.</p>
<p>The Ferris wheel was large, the rainbow lights on it continuously moving in a spiral pattern. Laurent had never been on it, let alone seen it in person, but he did know that one full rotation would take twenty minutes. And that each closed carriage was big enough to comfortably seat at least ten people.</p>
<p>So when the door closed behind him after stepping into the rectangular carriage after Damen, he was surprised, to say the least.</p>
<p>“Damen...”</p>
<p>“Yes, Laurent?”</p>
<p>He huffed. “You didn’t have to book the <i>entire</i> carriage, just for the two of us.”</p>
<p>Damen said nothing to that, just smiled as he sat down at the furthest end. Laurent shook his head a little and sat across from him. </p>
<p>“Thank you, though,” he said. “Everything about tonight has been more than I expected.”</p>
<p>When they reached the highest point of the wheel, Laurent was amazed at what he saw.</p>
<p>The night sky was completely void of any visible stars, but down below, little specks of light could be seen everywhere from the houses and buildings and street lamps. It was as though the stars had fallen from the sky and were sprinkled over the town.</p>
<p>It was a sight Laurent would not forget anytime soon.</p>
<p>The silence in the carriage was comfortable as the two of them took in the view.</p>
<p>As Laurent’s eyes swept over the scenery, he couldn’t help but to wonder if there was somebody out there he would one day meet and, possibly, fall in love with. But who would want to be with someone like him, whose heart had been broken in multiple ways?</p>
<p>“What are you thinking about?” Damen asked.</p>
<p>Laurent turned to face him. “It’s silly.”</p>
<p>“Now I’m curious.”</p>
<p>There was a long pause before Laurent said, “Do you think there’s that one person who we’re destined to be with?”</p>
<p>“I used to, until she—” Damen stopped, took a pause of his own.</p>
<p>There were multiple ways for that sentence to end, but Laurent wasn’t going to force Damen to finish it, so he nodded. “Sorry,” he said, “I hope I didn’t bring up any bad memories.”</p>
<p>Damen waved it off, still with that same smile that always showed off his dimple. Laurent’s heart skipped a beat.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” said Damen. “I’m sure we’ll both find the right person.”</p>
<p>They stared at one another, until Laurent was the first to break the eye contact. He nodded again and shifted in his seat so he could look out the window once more.</p>
<p>“It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it?” Damen asked.</p>
<p>Laurent’s eyes flickered to Damen. “Yes,” he agreed, “it is.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>When they drove by the beach, Laurent asked Damen to stop. He got out of the car once it was parked in the parking lot, and he stood beside it as he looked over at the beach.</p>
<p>The waves were wide and low as they came towards the shore. The moonlight was reflected in the water, and Laurent took a moment to stand there and fully appreciate the view of it all.</p>
<p>He was thankful Damen didn’t question why he wanted to go there, because even he didn’t fully know why.</p>
<p>“We are definitely not wearing the right shoes for this,” Damen said, laughing as they made their way onto the sand.</p>
<p>Laurent smiled. When they got closer to the waterline, he let out a small gasp at what he saw in the wet sand there. He crouched down, watching the baby crab dig itself a tiny hole downwards before it nestled inside of it. The hole was only the size of a coin.</p>
<p>“Cute,” said Damen, standing across from Laurent.</p>
<p>“Very.” Laurent tilted his head back, expecting to see Damen looking at the spot where the crab had just been.</p>
<p>His eyes were on Laurent.</p>
<p>Laurent’s cheeks felt warm, but that had nothing to do with the weather. Standing again in one swift motion, he took a few steps along the beach until he found another crab. This one was moving towards the water, and Laurent and Damen carefully stepped around it before continuing their walk.</p>
<p>They reached a short pier and walked onto it, their footsteps and the water around them being the only sounds. Once at the end, they sat beside each other with their legs dangling over the edge. It was high enough that they didn’t have to worry about their feet getting wet.</p>
<p>“Can you swim?” Laurent asked, looking out at the sea in front of them.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Damen replied, sounding a little wary as he leaned back on his hands. “Why? Going to push me in?”</p>
<p>Laurent brought one leg up to rest his foot on the pier and draped an arm over his knee. “No, just curious.”</p>
<p>“What about you?”</p>
<p>In his best impersonation of Damen, Laurent said, “Why? Going to push me in?”</p>
<p>“I don’t sound like that.”</p>
<p>Laurent grinned. “I can’t swim,” he finally said.</p>
<p>Quietness fell between them again. Laurent felt relaxed, sitting there and watching the water. He wondered what Damen was thinking about in that moment. “What did you do for your eighteenth?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Went to a club with Nik and got drunk afterwards,” Damen said, and then he laughed, as though remembering something from that day. “Regretted it the next day.”</p>
<p>“As long as you had fun, right?”</p>
<p>“Plenty. You have fun tonight?”</p>
<p>They were both still looking out at the sea when Laurent said, “Plenty.” He stood with Damen following suit.</p>
<p>There was one dark curl against Damen’s forehead that Laurent found himself wanting to move out of the way with his fingers. His gaze moved downwards, to Damen’s mouth, then back up to meet his eyes.</p>
<p>Leaning up on his toes, Laurent wrapped his arms around Damen’s shoulders.</p>
<p>Over Damen’s left shoulder, Laurent could see the Ferris wheel in the distance. He closed his eyes when Damen reciprocated the hug.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Laurent said, smiling.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope this chapter was as much fun to read as it was for me to write c:</p>
<p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Laurent was perfectly content with going to the cafe for dinner to celebrate his graduation, but Damen insisted on taking him to the four-star restaurant down the street instead. The place was famous for its pasta, since it was all imported directly from Bazal.</p><p>The air inside was cool, and Laurent welcomed it with an internal sigh of relief. It was good to get away from the dreadful heat of summer outside. Growing up, he had always preferred the colder weather.</p><p>Multiple black pendant lights were hanging from the ceiling throughout the room, all of them dimmed. The sound of chatter filled the space as Laurent and Damen were guided by a waitress across the dark hardwood floor to a square table beside the window.</p><p>The red tablecloth that draped over the four edges of the table was smooth and clean. In the middle was a white pillar candle, which had already been lit before they arrived.</p><p>Damen had said it was a nice place to go for a special occasion such as this, but Laurent still couldn’t help feeling bad when he opened the menu in his hands and noticed the prices. He tried not to let it show on his face.</p><p>The waitress left after they finished ordering. Even though it was busy that night, it didn’t take too long for her to return with their meals.</p><p>“I won’t be able to make it tomorrow to music night,” Damen said, twirling a few strands of spaghetti around his fork.</p><p>“Work?” Laurent asked, sprinkling some parmesan into his own bowl of penne.</p><p>“I’ve got a date.”</p><p>Laurent didn’t know why there was a tight feeling in his chest from hearing that. He was happy for Damen, and yet... “A date,” he said.</p><p>“Yeah, with someone from work.” Damen got so caught up talking about it that he let his fork rest in the bowl. “Her name’s Kyra. She only started working there a couple of weeks ago, but we’ve been talking a lot, and well…” He lifted his hand from the utensil to move it in a circular motion a couple of times. “I asked her out yesterday.”</p><p>The tightness moved down to Laurent’s stomach. What was the name of the emotion he was feeling right now? He didn’t know. “That’s great,” he said, forcing the words out as naturally as he could. “Where are you taking her?”</p><p>“If I say dinner and a movie, will that sound too cliché?”</p><p>“Absolutely.”</p><p>Damen let out a quiet laugh, then there was a pause before he said, “Sorry about tomorrow night.”</p><p>Laurent blinked. “It’s okay.” He shrugged. “I’ll still go, anyway.” It wasn’t fair to expect Damen to spend all of his free time with him. He skewered two pieces of pasta onto his fork. “Are you nervous?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Damen nodded. “It’s been a long time since I went on a date last.”</p><p>“I’m sure you’ll both have a nice time.” He took a bite, his eyes moving to the four framed artworks hanging on the white wall on the other side of the room.</p><p>“Enough about me, though. Tonight is for you.” Laurent could hear Damen pick up the fork again. “How does it feel to finally be finished with high school?”</p><p>“I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet that I’m done with it,” he admitted. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’m going to do now.”</p><p>“Which is?”</p><p>Laurent finally looked away from the art he had been admiring and back at Damen. “I want to move out.” He had received his inheritance earlier in the week, since he was finally of age, so paying the bond and at least the first few months of the rent wouldn’t be a problem. “There are a couple of houses open for inspection that I might look at this weekend.”</p><p>Both of Damen’s brows raised in surprise. “That’s a big step,” he said. “Are you sure you want to leave home so soon?”</p><p>That house had not felt like a home in a very long time.</p><p>“I’m sure,” Laurent said, nodding.</p><p>“Well then, that’s exciting. Let me know if I can help with anything.”</p><p>“I will, thanks.”</p><p>“Will you stay in Marlas?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Laurent nodded again. “I’ve been here my whole life. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.”</p><p>Despite what Auguste would say, Laurent wouldn’t leave his brother behind, and that was the main reason why he didn’t want to go anywhere else. Even if that meant being bound to Marlas for the next thirty years until Auguste was released, he didn’t care.</p><p>After they finished their meals, they each ordered a chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream for dessert. Damen carried a lot of the conversation during it, talking about his plans of returning to Ios to visit his father during the upcoming holidays.</p><p>Laurent would be alone, which was something he didn’t want to think about, and so he avoided talking about his own plans—or lack thereof—as much as he could, instead trying to keep the focus on Damen.</p><p>“So I’ll be back on the thirtieth.” Damen took a sip of his wine. “Are you doing anything on New Year’s Eve?”</p><p>“I don’t have any current plans, no.” Laurent dipped his spoon into the mousse. “You?”</p><p>“I usually do, but I think it’ll be a quiet one for me this year.” He set the glass back down. “You can come over, if you want. I get a great view of the fireworks from my backyard.”</p><p>Laurent liked that idea. A lot. “I’ll let you know closer to the day, thanks.” After a spoonful, he said, “The food tonight was really good.” He still had a hard time justifying the price, but Damen seemed to enjoy the finer things in life sometimes.</p><p>“I agree. We’ll have to find more reasons to come back.”</p><p>“Careful.” Laurent drank the rest of his water. “I might ask for the expensive steak next time.”</p><p>“I don’t mind spending half my pay on that.”</p><p>They both laughed. Laurent was still smiling when he said, “Thanks for tonight, and for coming to my graduation.”</p><p>“Of course,” Damen said, also smiling. “Be sure to send me those pictures, okay?”</p><p>Laurent put his hands in his lap, straightening his posture. “I look terrible in them,” he said, letting out a small groan afterwards.</p><p>“No you don’t.”</p><p>“Not everyone is as photogenic as you are, Damen.”</p><p>“Aw, you think I’m photogenic?”</p><p>Laurent closed his mouth, his hands sliding lower to squeeze his knees. “I’ll send the photos later,” he said, hating how easily he flushed. “Shall we go now?”</p><p>“Oh, no, I’m rather enjoying where this conversation is going,” Damen said, teasingly. “Let’s keep talking about it.”</p><p>Laurent stood, his hands coming to rest by his sides. “I’m definitely going to order the steak next time,” he said, watching Damen stand, “and I won’t feel bad about it, either.”</p><p>Damen let out another laugh before heading over to the counter to pay. Laurent stood beside him and waited patiently during the whole process. A different waitress was already clearing their table.</p><p>Leaving the restaurant, they walked down the path, towards the carpark. Laurent let out a small groan from the heat.</p><p>“Not a fan of the hot weather?” Damen asked.</p><p>“Not in the slightest.” He couldn’t wait to get inside his car and turn the air conditioner on. “Growing up in Ios, you must like it.”</p><p>“Love it.”</p><p>Laurent groaned again, waving a hand in front of his own face. It didn’t help at all. “Maybe I should reconsider, and move somewhere north. Apparently the summer up there is a lot more tolerable.” He wasn’t going to leave Marlas, but the idea of living in a place with a cooler summer was very tempting.</p><p>“I’d probably hate it there, just for that reason.”</p><p>Laurent fished his car key out of his pocket when they entered the carpark. His car was the closest, and Damen walked with him towards it. He unlocked the door and opened it before turning to face Damen.</p><p>“Thanks again for today,” he said, taking a step closer to Damen.</p><p>Damen also took a step, and they hugged. It was something they had been doing more, since that night on the pier. “Don’t forget the photos, yeah?”</p><p>“How could I forget?” When they pulled away, they were both smiling at each other. “Goodnight, Damen.”</p><p>“Goodnight, Laurent.”</p><p>Laurent watched as Damen walked to his own car, several spaces away. He gave a quick wave before getting into the driver’s seat. Closing the door, he took his phone out and unlocked it using his fingerprint. He scrolled through the photos with his thumb, stopping at a particular one.</p><p>The photo was of him holding the phone camera towards himself with a shy smile, wearing his black graduation robe and hat. Damen was beside him, his own smile bright and wide with an arm draped around Laurent’s shoulders.</p><p>It was Laurent’s favourite shot taken from that day.</p><p>He selected each one and sent them to Damen before locking his phone and putting it back away in his pocket.</p><p>The thought of going home that night while Uncle was there incinerated his good mood.</p><p>-</p><p>“How did your date go?”</p><p>They were walking through the park. The sun was out that Sunday morning, and so were lots of people. Children kneeled on the grass to observe the flowers before picking them by the stem, couples were jogging together along the path, an elderly woman sat on the bench with a book in her hands.</p><p>Laurent wondered what people first thought when they looked at him and Damen.</p><p>“It was… okay.”</p><p>That wasn’t what he thought Damen would say. “That bad?”</p><p>Damen shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, it was a good night,” he said, “but there really wasn’t much of a connection between us, after all. I think we’re better off just being friends.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“Besides,” Damen said, his head turning just barely towards Laurent before looking forward again, “the whole time, I found myself wanting someone else’s company.”</p><p>Their fingers brushed. Laurent hadn’t realised they were walking so close together. Neither of them moved away from the other to create any space.</p><p>Laurent lightly kicked a pebble, unsure of what to say to that.</p><p>Luckily, Damen spoke again. “Have you ever been on a date?”</p><p><i>Nobody wants me. I’m too broken to be loved</i>. “Never.” He looked around, finding a perfect spot under the shade of a tree. “Are you in the mood for lunch now?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>They made their way over to the tree and sat on the freshly cut grass. Damen leaned his back against the wide trunk with his legs crossed while Laurent took his bag off and placed it beside him.</p><p>“Oh, hey,” Damen said, bringing his phone out of his pocket. “Want to see my new wallpaper?”</p><p>Laurent was in the middle of taking the first plastic container out of his bag when he paused. He turned his head towards Damen slowly. “You didn’t,” he said, his voice flat.</p><p>Damen was grinning as he showed Laurent the screen.</p><p>It was the photo of them that Laurent loved.</p><p>Laurent huffed, turning to look back down at his bag. He finished pulling the container out, handing it wordlessly to Damen before bringing out the second one for himself.</p><p>“Thanks,” Damen said as he took it in his free hand while putting his phone away. He opened the lid. “Wow, this looks so good. You really made this?”</p><p>Laurent nodded, copying Damen’s pose beside him. He kept the container in his lap and opened the lid, picking up the chicken wrap. “It’s good to sometimes eat a home cooked meal, you know.”</p><p>Damen grinned, gently bumping his shoulder against Laurent’s. “Don’t call me out for always buying meals.”</p><p>Laurent looked forward, smiling, watching two children in the distance chasing bubbles that they had blown.</p><p>“Did you look at any houses yet?” Damen asked.</p><p>“I’m going to a couple soon.”</p><p>“By yourself?”</p><p>He shrugged. “I suppose.” Would Damen ever question why Uncle was hardly present in Laurent’s life? Laurent didn’t know how many excuses he could make without it being suspicious, but he also didn’t want to tell the truth.</p><p>“I could keep you company?”</p><p>“You don’t have anything else to do?”</p><p>“Nah. I’m not working until tomorrow night. It’ll be good for you to get a second opinion, anyway.”</p><p>Still smiling, Laurent said, “Okay.”</p><p>They finished eating before making their way out of the park. All of the houses that Laurent wanted to see were purposely far from where he currently lived, but still in Marlas. Since they had arrived in their own cars, Damen followed Laurent to the first house.</p><p>Which just so happened to be close to Damen.</p><p>“Yeah,” said Damen, closing the door of his car in front of Laurent’s on the roadside, “this one is like a two minute drive from me.”</p><p>Laurent was leaning against the hood of his car with his arms crossed as he watched Damen walk over to him. He rather liked the idea of possibly living close to Damen. “I’m really hoping to get this one,” he said, “but the other houses aren’t in bad locations either.”</p><p>“Well,” Damen said, standing beside Laurent, “I already like the sound of this one.” He looked over at the house.</p><p>Pushing himself away from the car, Laurent uncrossed his arms and walked down the concrete path that led to the front door.</p><p>-</p><p>It took two days for Laurent to hear back about the approval.</p><p>The second he got off the phone with the real estate agent, he quickly typed out a text message to Damen. He couldn’t stop smiling the entire time. To know he would finally be getting away from this house, to be getting away from <i>him</i>...</p><p>It took no longer than a minute before Laurent’s phone buzzed, Damen’s name appearing on the screen. Laurent didn’t hesitate to answer, holding it up to his ear.</p><p>“I’m so happy for you right now,” came Damen’s cheery voice. “Congratulations!”</p><p>Laurent sat on the edge of his bed. “Thank you,” he said, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. Hearing Damen’s own excitement made his cheeks warm.</p><p>“Which house?”</p><p>“The first one we looked at.”</p><p>“No kidding. We’ll practically be neighbours.”</p><p>“I’m really excited. I’m signing the lease later today.”</p><p>“There’s only one way to celebrate this. Are you free tonight?”</p><p>Laurent’s smile widened. “Yes.”</p><p>“Awesome. Let’s get the steak.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Big things are coming in the next chapter 👀</p><p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Nikandros entered the cell, it was to the sight of Auguste sitting on the top bunk with his back against the white wall and both legs outstretched. The pillow had been moved into his lap, a piece of paper resting atop it.</p>
<p>Nikandros didn’t have to ask who sent the letter. The answer was always the same.</p>
<p>Dumping the snacks he had bought from commissary onto the bottom mattress, he stood beside the bed, looking up at his cellmate. Auguste’s eyes never left the paper.</p>
<p>“I can smell the cigarette on you,” Nikandros said, furrowing his brows. “I thought you were trying to quit.”</p>
<p>“Sorry, mother.”</p>
<p>It went quiet for a moment, but the silence between them was never uncomfortable.</p>
<p>Auguste picked up the envelope that had been beside him on the bed and handed it to Nikandros.</p>
<p>When Nikandros opened it, he saw that there were two photos inside. The first was from Laurent’s graduation with Damen also in it, his smile the same as always. The second was a shot of the front of a house.</p>
<p>“He’s growing up so quickly,” said Auguste, his expression sombre. He was still looking down at the letter as he spoke. “Sometimes I still think of him as the child he was before all of… this.” He said the last word as he made a vague gesture around the cell.</p>
<p>Nikandros remained silent as he put the photos in the envelope and handed it back.</p>
<p>“But he’s not. He’s finished with school, he’s moved out, and he’s been talking about accepting a job offer at a bookstore.” A pause. “I’m missing the best years of his life.”</p>
<p>He knew sometimes Auguste needed to vent, to rant, to simply talk without expecting any response, and Nikandros was okay with being that person to listen. He climbed up onto the top bunk, sitting beside Auguste, who tilted his head back with a light thud against the wall.</p>
<p>“Thirty more years.” Auguste’s voice was small, weak. “I don’t know if I can last that much longer, Nik.”</p>
<p>Nikandros’ eyes went to the scar on Auguste’s face, once again thinking the man was extremely lucky to have survived Govart’s attack, before looking up at his eyes. The hope had died in them a long time ago.</p>
<p>“Don’t talk like that,” Nikandros said, facing forward to stare at the opposite wall.</p>
<p>Neither of them spoke for a long while. Nikandros listened to the sounds of the other inmates’ footsteps outside the door as they walked by and the strong wind crashing against the window of their cell.</p>
<p>Auguste started to play with the top left corner of the paper with his thumb and index finger.</p>
<p>“I refuse to believe you’ll be in here for that long,” said Nikandros. “You’re too good for this place.” He meant it. There were plenty of inmates who deserved to be in there, like Govart, for instance.</p>
<p>“If only everyone believed that.”</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t give a shit about what your uncle thinks.” He was still looking at the wall. “<i>You</i> know what the truth is, and I’ve seen firsthand how much you don’t belong in here.”</p>
<p>Auguste lifted his hand to touch his own face. Nikandros turned his head, watching him run a finger slowly along the scar. He could see that Auguste was clenching his jaw.</p>
<p>“I need a cigarette,” Auguste said, after a while.</p>
<p>Nikandros clicked his tongue before hopping down from the bed, Auguste following right after. He opened the door, waiting in the doorway when he heard crinkling.</p>
<p>“Are these for me?” Auguste asked, picking up the bag of chips. “You shouldn’t have.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t,” he replied with an impassive face.</p>
<p>“You’re always so kind to me,” Auguste said, grinning as he opened the packet and they both walked out of their cell.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Laurent watched Damen load the truck with the last few cardboard boxes, each one of them containing Auguste’s belongings. He didn’t want Uncle to keep them in the house, and so he was taking them with him. When Damen had questioned it, Laurent simply said he wanted to feel close to his brother. It wasn’t a lie.</p>
<p>“Is that everything?” Damen asked, still standing inside the truck, near the edge.</p>
<p>Laurent nodded, looking up at him from where he stood near the vehicle. “That’s it,” he replied, his eyes moving to the inside of the truck. It was an odd thing, to see his and Auguste’s lives packed away in multiple boxes. Everything that the two of them owned was in there.</p>
<p>Damen jumped down, working on closing the double doors. After locking them up, he turned to face Laurent. “You ready to go?”</p>
<p>Opening his mouth, Laurent planned on answering with yes, but quickly realised something. “Uh,” he said, pointing towards the front door, “give me a minute. I forgot my phone inside.”</p>
<p>“Take your time,” Damen said, leaning against the truck.</p>
<p>Entering the house, Laurent walked towards the kitchen, where he had placed his phone on the benchtop earlier. He purposely ignored Uncle, who was sitting at the dining table with his work laptop.</p>
<p>“He’ll get tired of you after a few mediocre fucks,” Uncle said, his eyes focused on the screen. “That’s all you’re good for, after all.”</p>
<p>Laurent’s hand was halfway to his phone when he paused, tensing. Taking a quiet, deep breath, he picked it up before putting it away in his pocket. When he left the house, he slammed the door harder than necessary.</p>
<p>Despite the fond memories he had there with his parents and brother, Laurent was glad he would never return to that house.</p>
<p>Without looking back, Laurent walked around to the side of the truck and opened the passenger door. Damen had picked him up in this vehicle, so his car was still at the new place. He finished putting on his seatbelt as Damen got into the driver’s seat.</p>
<p>It was an unbearably hot summer day. Laurent turned on the air conditioner before leaning back in his seat to get comfortable.</p>
<p>“What time is your flight tomorrow?” Laurent asked as they started driving down the street.</p>
<p>Damen’s eyes were still on the road when he said, “Four thirty.”</p>
<p>“I hope you mean in the afternoon and not the morning.”</p>
<p>“Yes, the afternoon,” Damen said, laughing. “Don’t worry, I’ve already got everything packed, so I have plenty of time to help you today.” He took a left at the end of the street.</p>
<p>Laurent flushed. “I wasn’t worried about that,” he said, leaning forward once again, this time to turn on the radio.</p>
<p>“Sure, I believe you,” Damen said playfully.</p>
<p>Once they arrived, they unloaded the truck, putting all of the boxes in the living room. As Damen carried a particularly heavy one, Laurent had to force himself not to stare at his biceps, only half covered by the red shirt he was wearing.</p>
<p>“I’ll order us something for lunch,” Damen said, setting the last box down beside the others. “What do you feel like?”</p>
<p>“A burger sounds good right now,” said Laurent, his fingers lightly tapping the top of a pile of boxes he was standing next to. “I’m not fussed about which place it’s from.” He had already done a small grocery shopping early in the morning, but he didn’t like the idea of cooking when it was so hot.</p>
<p>Damen took out his phone and began tapping on the screen. “Great, I know a really good place.”</p>
<p>“Unfortunately, I can’t offer any adequate seating,” Laurent said, “since all of the furniture I ordered got delayed.”</p>
<p>Damen’s thumb stopped moving as he looked up from his phone. “Delayed by how long?”</p>
<p>“At least one week.”</p>
<p>“Well,” said Damen, “I’ve got a folding table and some chairs you can borrow meanwhile.”</p>
<p>“Oh, that’d be good, thanks. Two chairs will be enough.”</p>
<p>“No worries.” He started tapping away with his thumb again. “I’ll order this food for pick up so I can stop by my place on the way and get them.” He put his phone away, taking out the keys for the truck. “Is there anything else you need?” When Laurent shook his head, he said, “Alright, I’ll be back soon.”</p>
<p>Laurent’s eyes were on Damen as he left the house, staring at the closed door afterwards for a moment before his tapping finally stopped. He inhaled, slowly exhaling as he touched one cheek with his hand. The ceiling fan above him was on the highest setting, which helped with the heat, so why did his face feel so warm?</p>
<p>Damen returned after twenty-five minutes. Laurent was in the middle of moving boxes filled with Auguste’s things into one of the spare rooms. He hadn’t decided yet if he would unpack them. Realistically, he knew there would be no point, but a part of him still wanted to do it.</p>
<p>“Where do you want it?” Damen asked after bringing in the table and chairs.</p>
<p>Laurent went to the kitchen with the bag of food, placing it on the benchtop. He looked at the empty space in front of him as he said, “In here should be fine.”</p>
<p>He got out the plates and loaded them with the food as Damen set up the table and chairs. Setting the plates atop the table, he got them each a glass of water.</p>
<p>“So,” Laurent said, sitting across from Damen, “you’re still planning on returning on the thirtieth?” He crossed one leg over the other, taking a sip of the cold water.</p>
<p>“Yeah, why? Are you going to miss me?” he teased. “I’ll only be gone for six days.”</p>
<p>Laurent scoffed. “As if I would.” He couldn’t stop the smile from appearing.</p>
<p>Damen was smiling too.</p>
<p>“I do hope you have a nice trip, though,” he said before picking up his burger with both hands.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The whole time Damen was out of Marlas, Laurent felt lonely. More than usual.</p>
<p>He was missing Damen’s presence more than he thought he would.</p>
<p>Laurent tried to distract himself by unpacking the rest of the boxes and putting everything in its place, but the quietness got to him after some time.</p>
<p>Putting on music didn’t help, as his thoughts were usually louder than the melodies coming through the speaker on his phone.</p>
<p>Even visiting Auguste during the holidays was harder than previous years.</p>
<p>It wasn’t until the day before Damen was due to return that Laurent broke down from the loneliness.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“Do you want your souvenir now?”</p>
<p>Laurent looked up from the rose garden he was kneeling in front of. “You got me something?”</p>
<p>“Of course.” Damen took a step back. “Hold on, I’ll go get it.” Turning, he disappeared inside the house.</p>
<p>With a small smile, Laurent tilted his head back down at the roses. It was obvious Damen knew how to tend to and look after them. Just like with people. Damen had mentioned once that he liked keeping roses because they were his mother’s favourite type of flower.</p>
<p>It was the evening of New Year’s Eve. Half an hour until midnight, to be exact. Laurent had arrived at Damen’s house roughly fifteen minutes ago, and they had gone into the backyard since the fireworks were meant to start soon.</p>
<p>Being around Damen made Laurent feel less lonely. It also made him feel happy. But that was a scary thing, to depend on someone else like that. He would know, more than anyone.</p>
<p>But he had to continuously remind himself that Damen was different.</p>
<p>Damen was a genuinely caring person.</p>
<p>Damen was always there for Laurent, if he ever needed someone to talk to.</p>
<p>Damen was funny, and clever, and charismatic.</p>
<p>Damen was—</p>
<p>“Laurent?”</p>
<p>Laurent startled. How long had Damen been there? He slowly stood straight and turned towards Damen. Looking down at the item covered in bubble wrap in one of Damen’s hands, he asked, “What is it?”</p>
<p>“You’ll see,” said Damen with a smile as he handed it to Laurent.</p>
<p>Laurent held it like it was the most fragile thing, like his own heart.</p>
<p>When Damen walked towards the nearby white wooden bench, Laurent followed, and they both sat beside one another. They were sitting close, their thighs practically touching.</p>
<p>Unwrapping it, Laurent saw that it was a snow globe the size of his palm. Inside of the globe was a tiny palace, which was one of Ios’ famous landmarks. The ceramic base was red, and the words written in gold on it read <i>The Summer Palace</i>.</p>
<p>“I thought you might like it because of the snow,” said Damen, “since you like the colder weather. I think that makes sense?”</p>
<p>Laurent held the globe up in front of his face and shook it a little, watching the artificial snow slowly fall back to the bottom. “I understand what you mean,” he said, smiling, shaking the globe once more. “I really like it. Thanks, Damen.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad to hear that.”</p>
<p>Laurent checked the silver watch around his right wrist when he heard and saw the first firework. Three minutes until midnight.</p>
<p>“Got any New Year’s resolutions?” asked Damen.</p>
<p>Laurent set the globe on the grass, right beside the bench leg so he didn’t risk accidentally knocking it over. “Doing one sudoku puzzle every day sounds fun.”</p>
<p>“<i>Fun</i>.”</p>
<p>Laurent let out a laugh as he straightened his posture again. His fingers interlocked when he put his hands in his lap. “What about you?”</p>
<p>“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind going to the gym more.”</p>
<p>Humming, Laurent looked back up at the night sky. The fireworks were still small and there was nothing special about them, since they were obviously a warmup.</p>
<p>Once midnight did hit, the sounds of people cheering and yelling could be heard from the neighbouring houses. A car horn was honked from presumably somewhere in the street.</p>
<p>Multiple fireworks burst loudly in the sky at the same time, each one huge and a different colour. The most common effect was peony, but every now and then the sky would shimmer with willow and strobe fireworks.</p>
<p>Damen had been telling the truth when he said he got a great view from his backyard.</p>
<p>Laurent turned his head to face Damen, seeing the reflection of the fireworks in his eyes. His gaze went down to Damen’s mouth, then to his dimple, before landing on his eyes again.</p>
<p>In that moment, everything suddenly made sense, and he wondered how he had missed all of the painfully obvious signs.</p>
<p>“Damen.” His voice was small, but it could still be heard over the sound of the fireworks exploding.</p>
<p>When Damen turned to look at him, Laurent didn’t hesitate. He leaned towards Damen, cupping one cheek with his hand as he brought their lips together. He closed his eyes, his other hand resting atop Damen’s thigh.</p>
<p>The fireworks stopped.</p>
<p>Everything was silent once again.</p>
<p>Laurent was almost afraid to open his eyes, in fear of what expression he might see on Damen’s face.</p>
<p>Maybe Laurent had gone too far.</p>
<p>Perhaps he had just ruined their friendship.</p>
<p>He didn’t know what he would do if he lost Damen.</p>
<p>Laurent pulled away, as if he’d just been burned, his eyes opening wide. He put his hands back into his lap, but he couldn’t stop them from trembling.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he said, his heart hammering in  his chest, “I thought—”</p>
<p>Damen cupped the back of Laurent’s head, pulling him in for a second kiss.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Three weeks later, Laurent received a call from his family lawyer, Herode.</p>
<p>It was short, and straight to the point.</p>
<p>“The real culprit has been caught,” said Herode.</p>
<p>Laurent’s heart was pounding.</p>
<p>“He confessed to everything.”</p>
<p>He sat heavily on the couch, his eyes wide and staring at a random spot on the wall ahead of him. The tears were already running down his face, and his left leg was bouncing while his free hand gripped the armrest.</p>
<p>Auguste was going to be released from prison.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I cannot believe the time has finally come for me to share that phone call :')</p>
<p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was all over the news, the story of how a hitman had been caught by an undercover cop with video footage. The man had confessed to all of his crimes after that and, wanting to drag everyone else down with him, coughed up the names of every person he had been hired by in the past.</p>
<p>Uncle was one of them.</p>
<p>One of the many articles Laurent read online mentioned how the man had charged double for it to look like Auguste had done it, since it took him a lot more work and effort to make sure his own fingerprints were covered up and to hide any trace of him being at Halvik’s house.</p>
<p>Laurent didn’t know why Uncle had done something so horrible to his own nephew. He tried not to think too hard about it, since Uncle had also been horrible to <em>him</em> but for different reasons. The thought of Uncle possibly doing one thing just to achieve another made Laurent feel sick.</p>
<p>But Laurent would never find out, because he didn’t plan to ever visit his uncle at Marlas Penitentiary.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>After four and a half years, it was… odd, to see Auguste in anything other than the prison’s blue jumpsuit.</p>
<p>But there he stood, wearing a plain black shirt and straight cut jeans that Laurent had bought and express mailed to the prison only days ago.</p>
<p>Laurent practically flew into his brother’s arms at the gates of the prison. He held on tightly, his eyes closed and arms wrapped around Auguste’s neck. Due to the height difference, he had to lean up on his tippy toes to do it.</p>
<p>Auguste was hugging him just as tightly, just as desperately. When he laughed, Laurent could only imagine how he might be feeling in that moment.</p>
<p>Laurent was terrified that he would suddenly wake up, and all of this would have been a dream. That he would be back in bed, and Auguste would still be in prison for the next thirty years.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry,” Laurent said, “that he did this to you.”</p>
<p>Auguste hushed him gently, pulling away just enough so they could look at one another. He lifted a hand to brush back Laurent’s short hair. “Uncle will hardly last one day in there,” he said, a serious look in his eyes. “Nik will make sure of it.” There was also a serious tone in his voice.</p>
<p>Laurent was left speechless as he registered the words. Then he laughed, because Uncle would deserve everything bad that was coming his way, and he hugged Auguste once again.</p>
<p>When they reached the car, Auguste ran a hand along the roof of it, his fingers tapping lightly.</p>
<p>Laurent was watching from where he stood on the driver’s side. “You can have it back,” he said.</p>
<p>“You should keep it,” said Auguste, “if you like it.” He opened the passenger door. “I can find something else.”</p>
<p>Laurent did like it, because it had belonged to Auguste, and because it got him from point A to point B. That was all he needed a car for. He had never cared about how flashy it looked or how fast it could go. As long as he could get to his destination, he was happy with it.</p>
<p>Laurent nodded and they both got inside the car. He finished putting his seatbelt on before turning to face Auguste. Nothing could extinguish the happiness he was feeling or stop the smile he was showing.</p>
<p>Auguste was running one hand over his knee, the other picking at the fabric of his jeans. He also turned, facing Laurent. “This is going to take me a while to get used to,” he said.</p>
<p>“Wearing normal clothes again?”</p>
<p>“Seeing you,” he said, his eyes moving to the steering wheel, then back at Laurent, “sitting there, about to drive.”</p>
<p>When Laurent leaned in for a hug, Auguste met him halfway.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“You kept everything?”</p>
<p>Laurent stepped into the room, watching Auguste open one of the many cardboard boxes. “Of course,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.</p>
<p>Auguste took out one of his classic books, his fingertips slowly trailing over the cover. Looking at his face, Laurent couldn’t tell what his brother was thinking.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” said Auguste, putting the book back away. He looked up from where he was kneeling on the floorboards. “Should we…” He paused. For one short moment, the only sound in the room came from his fingers tapping against the flap of the box. “We can talk about it another day,” he said, “but we’ll need to discuss what to do with the house.”</p>
<p>It was Laurent’s turn to pause. He already knew he would prefer to sell the house if Auguste didn’t want to go back there either. “Another day,” he said, agreeing with a nod. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do now?”</p>
<p>“I’ll take it easy for a little while, I think,” replied Auguste, sliding over another box towards him. “I wouldn’t mind doing some travelling sometime this year.”</p>
<p>Laurent nodded again. Auguste could definitely afford it with the financial compensation he had received for being falsely imprisoned. Looking at the scar, he wondered if Auguste would get a laser treatment to try to have it be less noticeable, or the one on his shoulder.</p>
<p>“So,” Auguste said, giving Laurent a knowing smile, “you and Damen, huh?”</p>
<p>Laurent moved further on the bed so that his back was against the wall, right beside the open window. He brought his knees up, wrapping both arms around them. “Yes,” he said, feeling the flush on his cheeks as he remembered the night they first kissed.</p>
<p>
  <em>As they pulled away from the second kiss, Damen’s hand moved from the back of Laurent’s head to his cheek. Their faces were only inches apart.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Laurent’s voice was low when he said, “I like you, Damen.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Damen’s eyes slowly searched all over Laurent’s face multiple times before they made eye contact. “I like you, too.”</em>
</p>
<p>They had gone on a couple of small lunch dates since then, because Damen had been so busy with late night shifts at work. But he would be free this upcoming weekend, and so they were both talking about going on a date that would last the whole day.</p>
<p>Auguste still had that same smile as he said, “He makes you happy.”</p>
<p>“He does.” When the wind started to pick up, Laurent moved one of his hands to close the window. “A lot.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Later that night, Laurent refused any help with preparing dinner.</p>
<p>He was standing in front of the stove in the kitchen, watching through the window as Damen and Auguste talked to one another. The two were standing beside the fence in the backyard, too far for Laurent to be able to hear them.</p>
<p>When Damen looked in his direction, Laurent quickly turned, making himself seem busy by unnecessarily stirring the pasta for the second time in one minute. He glanced back outside and saw that Damen was facing Auguste once again.</p>
<p>Once the food was finished cooking and Laurent was done with setting up the table, he called Damen and Auguste inside.</p>
<p>“It looks so amazing,” Auguste said, Damen agreeing as they both sat at the table.</p>
<p>Laurent smiled. “Mother’s recipe. I found a whole box of them when I was packing.” Taking a seat, he noticed Damen staring at him. He raised a brow.</p>
<p>“Auguste was just telling me,” said Damen, picking up his fork, “about how your hair used to be long. Like, <em>really</em> long.”</p>
<p>“Was he?” Laurent’s eyes flickered to Auguste, then back to Damen.</p>
<p>“You still don’t want to grow it out?” Auguste asked, also looking at Laurent.</p>
<p>He tried not to think about those five words that Uncle had spoken in the carpark, which had been the reason why he cut his hair in the first place.</p>
<p>“I’m just used to having it at this length,” he said, picking up his glass of water. “It’s also easier to maintain like this.”</p>
<p>Damen’s eyes were on him for a little longer, as though trying to picture it.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The worst part about nightmares was the fact that Laurent <em>knew</em> he was having one, but could never wake himself up from it, no matter how hard he tried.</p>
<p>But it wasn’t the one involving the house, as he had told Paschal about all those months ago. This one was different, new. It was also terrifying, to not know what to expect.</p>
<p>All around Laurent was darkness. His eyes were opened, but it felt like they were still closed. He couldn’t see a single thing.</p>
<p>Then he felt gentle hands running through his hair, heard Auguste humming an old lullaby that their mother used to sing to them when they were younger. Laurent’s hair was long, just like it used to be before he had cut it when he was thirteen.</p>
<p>The humming continued as Auguste worked on tying Laurent’s hair into one ponytail. Laurent tried to turn around, but found himself unable to move. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.</p>
<p>Laurent felt dread in the pit of his stomach, sensing that something was about to happen.</p>
<p>Auguste ran his fingers through the whole length of the ponytail.</p>
<p>The humming stopped.</p>
<p>The touch was gone.</p>
<p>Laurent felt alone.</p>
<p>There was a sudden, sharp tug on his hair. Still, no sound was made when he opened his mouth from the pain. However, he was finally able to move, and so he lifted a hand to the back of his head, but the ponytail was gone.</p>
<p>His hair was short, just like in the real world.</p>
<p>Everything was still pitch black, but falling all around Laurent was his long golden strands of hair.</p>
<p>Laurent felt the press of a chest against his back, and despite the fact he could not see the person, he hated how he instantly knew who it was.</p>
<p>When Laurent woke up, he was on his back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. His breathing was heavy, his arms by his sides as his hands clenched the bedding tightly. He could feel how shaky his arm was as he brought a hand up to touch his forehead, grimacing from the sweat he felt.</p>
<p>Once his breathing had settled, Laurent slowly got out of bed. The clock on his bedside table showed that it was one in the morning. His legs were also shaky as he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face. When he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he ran a hand through his hair. He was long overdue for a trim.</p>
<p>Laurent used the torch on his phone to help guide him down the dark hallway, making his way towards the glass sliding door that led to the backyard. As he approached it, he noticed a figure sitting on the white wrought iron chair, and he turned the torch off.</p>
<p>Auguste was in the middle of taking a drag of a cigarette as he watched Laurent slide the door open.</p>
<p>For the middle of summer, it was rather cold when Laurent stepped outside. The mounted light on the brick wall was switched on.</p>
<p>Auguste’s pace was unhurried as he put out the cigarette in the ashtray at the same time he blew out a cloud of smoke.</p>
<p>When had he started smoking?</p>
<p>“I thought you were asleep,” Auguste said. His other hand was atop the circular table that matched the chair, his fingers tapping almost silently against it. His brows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”</p>
<p>Laurent crossed his arms over his chest, his hands holding his upper arms. It wasn’t done out of defensiveness, more as a way to stop them from shaking.</p>
<p>“Bad dream,” said Laurent, sitting on the chair opposite Auguste. “I needed some fresh air.” His eyes drifted down to the ashtray, then back to Auguste. “Could we just talk?” he asked, his hands gripping tighter. “About anything.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Tell him about Uncle.</em>
</p>
<p>“Of course,” said Auguste, nodding.</p>
<p>
  <em>About what he did to you.</em>
</p>
<p>When Laurent’s breath hitched, Auguste sat up straighter in his chair with concern all over his face. Laurent opened his mouth, his eyes tracing the intricate pattern on the top of the table. “He…”</p>
<p>
  <em>That you let him.</em>
</p>
<p>Tears began to spill, and Laurent was helpless against stopping them. He closed his mouth, swallowing.</p>
<p>Metal scraped against the concrete as Auguste pushed his chair back and stood. Laurent also stood, but didn’t move as Auguste walked over to him. His arms were still crossed when he leaned into the hug, taking deep breaths as he rested his forehead against Auguste’s chest.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice so quiet he didn’t know if Auguste could hear it. He continued to silently cry.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Laurent was confused for the first few seconds after waking up, before realising he had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room. The television was on, an episode a terrible sitcom playing on the screen.</p>
<p>He felt exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept at all, and was suddenly thankful that he wasn’t working that day. Sitting up, he wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders and crossed his legs, staring at the coffee table in front of him.</p>
<p>His sigh was deep and long as he closed his eyes. Leaning back to get comfortable, he soon drifted off again.</p>
<p>When Laurent awoke next, a different show was playing. He yawned, rubbing one eye with the palm of his hand.</p>
<p>“You’re awake,” came Auguste’s voice from behind him, somewhere in the kitchen. Footsteps was then heard, and Auguste sat on the armrest of the couch. “How did you sleep?”</p>
<p>“I’ve slept better,” Laurent replied truthfully, shrugging his shoulders. “What time is it?”</p>
<p>“Around ten. Do you want something to eat?”</p>
<p>“Some toast and tea would be nice.”</p>
<p>Auguste nodded before standing. “How many pieces?”</p>
<p>“Just two.” Laurent managed a tiny smile when Auguste kissed the top of his head. “Both with plum jam, please.”</p>
<p>“Coming right up,” Auguste said before he went back into the kitchen.</p>
<p>Laurent leaned forward to pick up the remote control from the coffee table, using it to turn the television off. He put it back down before taking off the blanket, leaving it in a bundle beside him.</p>
<p>“How are you doing, though?” Laurent asked. The kitchen was close enough to the living room that they could talk without having to raise their voices. He turned on the couch to look over at Auguste.</p>
<p>“I still haven’t processed that this is real,” Auguste said, taking out a butter knife from the drawer. He placed it on the bench, leaning against it as he looked over at Laurent. “I haven’t really processed a lot of things.” His fingers were drumming on the benchtop, something that Laurent noticed Auguste was doing a lot.</p>
<p>He didn’t say anything about it, just like how the two of them weren’t saying anything about Uncle.</p>
<p>“It’s kind of hard to properly describe how I feel right now.” Auguste paused. “There was always some sort of sound in prison,” he said, taking the toast out after it popped up, “but waking up this morning, it was weird and strange to have silence.” After opening the jar of jam, he said, “I’m going to miss Nik.”</p>
<p>“When is he getting out?”</p>
<p>“In fourteen months.”</p>
<p>Laurent nodded. After a quiet moment, he said, “I didn’t know you smoked.” He stood up, going to the kitchen so he could sit at the table.</p>
<p>“At least a year now,” Auguste said, placing the plate and mug in front of Laurent on the tabletop.</p>
<p>“Oh.” Laurent picked at one corner of the toast with his fingers. “You don’t need to explain why. I was just a little surprised by it.”</p>
<p>“It’s an addicting habit, but I’ve been trying to quit.” Auguste went back towards the toaster, putting in two more slices of bread.</p>
<p>Laurent ate the small bit of toast before asking, “Do you have any plans for the day?”</p>
<p>“I should probably get some shopping done, especially for clothes.”</p>
<p>“You can take the car, since I don’t need it.” He picked up the mug with both hands.</p>
<p>“And you?”</p>
<p>“I still feel a bit tired,” Laurent said, taking a sip of the tea. “I’ll probably go to bed and rest for a little longer.” He lowered the mug back to the table. “We should go for a walk later. There’s a nice park not that far from here.”</p>
<p>Auguste smiled. “Sounds nice.”</p>
<p>It wasn’t until Laurent finished his breakfast and got into bed that he finally checked his phone. He smiled at the good morning text from Damen, sending one back before closing his eyes.</p>
<p>He couldn’t wait for their date in three days.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!</p>
<p>I've been waiting so long to finally have the uncle go to prison :')</p>
<p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They decided to meet at the train station.</p>
<p>Laurent clicked his black pen several times while looking down at the sudoku book in his lap. He was sitting on the green metallic bench on the third platform, his brows furrowed as he struggled with the next number. He clicked his tongue quietly.</p>
<p>“Good morning.”</p>
<p>Laurent startled, almost dropping his pen. He tightened his grip on it. “Good morning,” he said, smiling up at Damen.</p>
<p>Damen was standing in front of him when he turned to look up at the electronic board. Laurent also focused his attention towards it. Their train wouldn’t be arriving for another twelve minutes. He looked back at Damen.</p>
<p>“How are you?” Damen asked, moving to sit beside Laurent. His gaze went down to the book before their eyes met and his smile showed off the dimple that Laurent loved so, so much.</p>
<p>Laurent’s smile widened. How could it not when he was around Damen? “I’m good,” he said, closing the book while they were still making eye contact. He lightly tapped the end of the pen against the hard cover of it. “How about you?”</p>
<p>“I’m good, too.”</p>
<p>“A thrilling conversation,” Laurent said, teasingly, trying to hold back a laugh.</p>
<p>Damen openly let out a laugh before leaning closer to kiss Laurent’s temple. Heat immediately rushed to Laurent’s cheeks because he still was not used to these little displays of affection, especially when they were done out in public for everyone to see.</p>
<p>Laurent started putting the book and pen away in his shoulder bag that was on the other side of him at the same time Damen asked, “So, you’re still doing one per day?”</p>
<p>Nodding, Laurent said, “I am. I haven’t missed a day yet.” He turned his head to look at Damen, his eyes going to his biceps. “I see you’ve been doing well with your own New Year’s resolution.”</p>
<p>Damen’s laughter was something that Laurent wanted to bottle up and keep close forever; it was a sound that could instantly cheer him up and help him get through a bad day.</p>
<p>“I really am looking forward to today,” said Laurent.</p>
<p>“So am I.” Damen turned his upper body slightly to better face Laurent. “You’ll really like it, I promise. It’s going to be a lot of fun.”</p>
<p>When they were planning for this date, Laurent had mentioned never having gone to the aquarium, and so that was where they were headed. The closest one was in Ravenel, which was a one hour train ride from Marlas. Ravenel was also a city that Laurent had very rarely been to due to the lack of reasons for needing to even go there.</p>
<p>Hearing the train horn, Laurent turned his head to the left and watched as it came to a stop at their platform. While they both stood, one of Laurent’s hands went to the strap of his bag. There was no rush to board the train, since it would not be departing for another five minutes, according to the board.</p>
<p>They waited for everyone to exit the carriage before stepping into it, heading towards the back. Laurent took the window seat and placed his bag between his feet on the ground.</p>
<p>“Oh,” said Laurent, “something happened for the first time at work yesterday.”</p>
<p>Damen took the seat beside him. “Do tell.” His face was full of curiosity.</p>
<p>“I had a customer who made the <i>joke</i>”—the last word was said while he made air quotes with his fingers—“about how the book should be free, since there was no price sticker on it.” He rolled his eyes. “I feel like you would say that, too. Please tell me you haven’t.”</p>
<p>Damen was grinning at him. “I have, once.”</p>
<p>There was a pause, during which Laurent simply stared at Damen with an unamused expression. “I’m going home,” he finally said, making no attempt whatsoever to move.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Damen said, still grinning.</p>
<p>“I shall forgive you, but only this one time.”</p>
<p>Laurent tapped his fingers against his thigh—the one closest to Damen—fully aware of how warm his cheeks felt. When he looked down, he saw that the palms of Damen’s hands were atop his own thighs. His gaze went back up to meet Damen’s eyes and he placed his hand gently over Damen’s, smiling.</p>
<p>Being around Damen made Laurent incredibly happy.</p>
<p>The train ride was filled with a mixture of comfortable silences and small talk. At one point Damen was reminiscing his childhood, talking about things like how he used to frequent the ocean that he had lived close to, how his brother would walk bare foot with him through the sand in search of seashells, how his father had taken him fishing in the early hours of the morning.</p>
<p>Laurent genuinely enjoyed listening to it all.</p>
<p>By the time they arrived in Ravenel, almost every seat in the carriage was taken. Laurent picked up his bag, draping it over his shoulder as he followed Damen out, being mindful of the small gap between the train and the platform.</p>
<p>Ravenel was a huge and popular city, which meant that people were everywhere. Laurent and Damen made their way through the crowd, leaving the train station and walking down a footpath that seemed almost as busy.</p>
<p>The aquarium was only a short walk, no longer than fifteen minutes.</p>
<p>After their tickets were scanned, Laurent held the map that one of the staff handed to him. He unfolded it, surprised by just how much there was to see. It looked as though if they kept to the path that went from one room to another on both floors, they would be able to experience everything. He put the map away as they went to the first room.</p>
<p>The place was certainly busy, but everybody was acting respectfully.</p>
<p>Children gathered around the rockpools, some with their hands in the water. When Laurent took a look, he could see shark eggs in various shapes and colours. Resting atop one rock was an information sheet, showing which type of shark each egg had come from.</p>
<p>They moved on to the next room, where the lighting was dimmed. Behind the glass walls were jellyfish. Laurent was holding Damen’s hand as they stood beside one another to watch them swim.</p>
<p>“I’ve never seen one in real life,” said Laurent, his eyes following one particular jellyfish as it moved upwards. “Have you?”</p>
<p>“They’re quite common in the oceans at Ios.”</p>
<p>Laurent nodded, now watching a different one. It was relaxing; a part of him wanted to just stay there for the rest of the day. This was a memory that Laurent would look back on and cherish for the rest of his life.</p>
<p>“They’re beautiful,” he said quietly, only just realising his grip on Damen’s hand had slightly tightened.</p>
<p>“Not as beautiful as you.”</p>
<p>Laurent bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. It just barely worked. “That was extremely corny, even for you. I might go home for real this time.”</p>
<p>They remained in that spot for another few minutes before Laurent took his phone out of his bag with his free hand, double checking that the flash was turned off before taking a photo of the jellyfish. He took another, just in case the first ended up blurry.</p>
<p>When they left that room, they walked together through a tunnel that was completely made out of glass. Swimming all around them was a mixture of sharks and fish and even a large stingray.</p>
<p>Laurent looked up in awe, his breath hitching when he watched a huge shark pass by. He turned around to face Damen, instantly flushing when he noticed the camera pointed at him.</p>
<p>Damen gave him a smile before putting his phone back into his pocket, and they continued walking through the tunnel.</p>
<p>After seeing everything on the first floor, it was already lunch time, and so they headed to the food court. The place, not surprisingly, was filled with people, but they managed to find a small vacant table beside the wall. Laurent sat there and waited while Damen stood in the long line to order their meals.</p>
<p>Eventually Damen returned, placing the tray on their table before sitting across from Laurent.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” said Laurent, picking up one of the hot chips. He took a bite, pleased that it wasn’t oversalted.</p>
<p>Damen was smiling. “You’re welcome.”</p>
<p>Laurent finished the chip before he said, “It’s been a lot of fun so far.” He grabbed one of the water bottles Damen had bought and unscrewed the cap. “I’m excited to see everything on the second floor.”</p>
<p>“I’m having a lot of fun, too.”</p>
<p>Laurent was just as amazed at what he saw on the second floor. One of his favourite rooms was the one that contained seahorses, and he made sure to take photos of them before he forgot.</p>
<p>Then, towards the end, there were penguins.</p>
<p>“They’re so cute,” said Damen.</p>
<p>They were both standing at a glass divider, watching the small penguins waddling around. There was an ice slope, where a line of penguins went up it before sliding down the other slope and into the water. Laurent had to agree with Damen. Who wouldn’t think penguins were cute?</p>
<p>Once again, they were holding hands, even as they went into the gift shop. Laurent had suggested buying a gift for one another and Damen was on board with that idea. They slowly walked along one shelf that covered the entire wall. Damen stopped at the end of it.</p>
<p>“The one is perfect for you,” Damen said, reaching a hand up to take a bookmark between his index finger and thumb.</p>
<p>The bookmark had three purple jellyfish on it with a black background. The tassel was also purple.</p>
<p>Laurent also thought it was the perfect gift, and he told Damen that. He turned his head, instantly spotting something that he knew Damen would like. He walked towards it, dragging Damen along with him.</p>
<p>“This one,” he said, picking up a plush toy of a penguin the size of his hand.</p>
<p>They each paid and then exchanged their gifts, Laurent putting the bookmark in his bag while Damen opted for carrying the plush toy in his free hand, before they walked back to the train station.</p>
<p>On the train ride back to Marlas, Laurent ended up falling asleep with his head resting against Damen’s shoulder. Confusion hit him when he felt something soft against his cheek and he blinked his eyes open. He couldn’t help the laughter that escaped him when he saw the penguin right in front of his face.</p>
<p>“Our stop is coming up soon,” Damen said, the smile clear in his voice. He pulled the penguin away, sitting it atop his thigh.</p>
<p>Laurent sat up straight and covered his mouth with one hand when he yawned. “Sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it. It was a long day, after all.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for today,” Laurent said. “I wouldn’t mind”—he rubbed his palm along his own thigh, not sure why he was feeling nervous—“another date.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Damen leaned in close, pressing their lips together. Their foreheads were touching as he said, “I wouldn’t mind that either.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>They sent each other text messages back and forth during the next three days. </p>
<p>On the fourth day, however, the messages from Damen stopped.</p>
<p>Laurent tried not to overthink it. He knew Damen had been busy with long shifts at work this week, but to not say anything after Laurent’s good morning text when it was already close to six in the evening? Laurent couldn’t help but to worry.</p>
<p>After leaving work, he checked his phone one more time before getting into his car. He had the gut feeling that he needed to go check if Damen was home, check to see if he was okay.</p>
<p>As Laurent approached the house, he could see that Damen’s car was in the driveway. A light rain had started on his way there, but he didn’t let that bother him when he got out of the car. He closed the door and locked it before heading up the path, noticing that all of the curtains were closed.</p>
<p>His heart was pounding as he stopped in front of the door. There was no shelter whatsoever to protect him from the rain that was still falling. It took him a moment to be able to raise his fist. He knocked, waited, knocked again when there was no answer the first time.</p>
<p>Laurent couldn’t hear any sound coming from inside the house. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and checked it, frowning when there was still nothing from Damen. He wiped the screen on his shirt to get rid of the droplets before putting it back away.</p>
<p>“Damen?” He stared at the wooden door before glancing at Damen’s car.</p>
<p>Maybe Damen had gone for a walk.</p>
<p>Maybe he was catching up on sleep.</p>
<p>Maybe he no longer wanted anything to do with Laurent, and was ignoring him.</p>
<p>Maybe Laurent really was destined to be unloved.</p>
<p>Maybe—</p>
<p>The door opened.</p>
<p>Damen stood there, wearing a grey shirt and black sweatpants. His hair was dishevelled, as though he had been running his fingers through it. His eyes were red, clearly indicating he had been crying.</p>
<p>“Laurent? I—” He took a shuddering breath. “I should have contacted you earlier. That wasn’t fair to you. I’m so sorry.”</p>
<p>Seeing Damen like this, Laurent thought that his heart might stop. “Damen, it’s okay,” he said, gently. “I was just worried about you, but I can leave if you want to be alone.”</p>
<p>“No, I...” His eyes went up to the sky, then back down to Laurent. “Come out of the rain.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside.</p>
<p>Laurent nodded before walking inside. He turned towards Damen, waiting patiently through the silence. Something was clearly going on, but he obviously wasn’t going to force Damen to talk about it.</p>
<p>“You’ve always been there for me,” Laurent said. “I’m here for you, too. Always.”</p>
<p>Damen slowly closed the door with a gentle click. His hand remained on the knob, gripping it until he finally let go and turned around so they were facing each other. Fresh tears were running down his cheeks.</p>
<p>Laurent closed the small gap between them before wrapping his arms around Damen’s waist. He closed his eyes when he felt Damen’s own arms around his shoulders.</p>
<p>They remained like that, holding each other. The rain had started to pour even harder for the next several minutes before it died back down.</p>
<p>Into the quiet, Damen said, “My father passed away.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello! I’m so sorry it took so long to update. I ended up <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28194975">writing a oneshot</a> for my Business AU and, almost immediately after posting it, I went through some things mentally that really affected my ability to write. Thank you for being so patient with me 💖</p>
<p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were sitting beside one another in the airport, waiting for the next forty-two minutes to pass so they could board their plane.</p>
<p>“My father is—” Damen suddenly stopped and took a short pause. He was facing forward, watching people walk past. “He <i>was</i> a stern man at times, and he could be a little intimidating, but he would have liked you.”</p>
<p>Laurent knew exactly what it was like to talk about a loved one as though they were still here, still breathing, still <i>alive</i>. He had gone through it with both of his parents, after all. And with Halvik.</p>
<p>“Really?” He held Damen’s hand in both of his, resting them atop his own thigh. “You think so?”</p>
<p>“I know so.” Damen turned his head to give Laurent a tiny smile, the sadness clear in his eyes. He was hurting, and Laurent wanted to help him through all of that same pain he had also experienced as a child.</p>
<p>Laurent lightly squeezed Damen’s hand and listened to him talk more about his father.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Laurent wasn’t afraid of flying but he was, admittedly, a little nervous, mainly when the plane took off. It was his first time. He gripped Damen’s hand tightly while keeping his face impassive.</p>
<p>It was only after the plane was in the sky and levelled out that Laurent finally let himself relax. Damen had offered the window seat, since he had flown many times and wanted Laurent to experience the view.</p>
<p>And what a view it was. He half-turned in his seat to look out the small circular window. The sky was the same hue of blue as his eyes, and the white clouds seemed to go on and on, as far as the eye could see.</p>
<p>“You’ve got that same look.”</p>
<p>Laurent blinked, turning towards Damen on his right. “What same look?” he asked, unable to stop the curiosity in his voice.</p>
<p>“The one you had while you were watching the jellyfish.”</p>
<p>Flushing, Laurent said nothing and directed his gaze back out the window. So Damen paid attention to things like that, did he?</p>
<p>They were still holding hands—something Laurent enjoyed doing with Damen. Well, he also liked it when they kissed, but he was still a bit shy about doing that around other people.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The first thing Laurent noticed about Ios was that the summer heat was a lot more intense than what he was used to in Marlas. But he’d endure it, to be there for Damen.</p>
<p>They each bought a cold, overpriced bottle of water from one of the shops in the airport before catching a taxi.</p>
<p>It took roughly an hour to reach Theomedes’ house. One of the first things Damen did when they entered was turn on the air conditioner, obviously for Laurent’s sake.</p>
<p>Laurent was then shown around the house, their footsteps loud on the wooden floorboards. This was the home that Damen grew up in, and Laurent took everything in as they went from room to room.</p>
<p>“Luckily the sun doesn’t hit this window,” Damen said, opening the door to the guest room, “so this room never gets as hot as the others.” He stood in the doorway after Laurent stepped inside. “If you need to use the fan, the remote for it is in the top bedside drawer.”</p>
<p>Laurent placed his suitcase beside the foot end of the bed before turning towards Damen. “You look exhausted,” he said. “You should take a nap before you need to see the funeral director.”</p>
<p>Damen was hesitant before he asked, “What about you?”</p>
<p>“I’m going to call Auguste and let him know we arrived safely. Please, Damen, get some sleep.”</p>
<p>He eventually nodded. “Wake me up if you need anything.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Theomedes had been a beloved man, Laurent knew just from the way Damen spoke about him, but it was even more obvious after seeing how many people had shown up to the funeral.</p>
<p>Laurent stood in the shade underneath one of the large trees as he watched the coffin being lowered.</p>
<p>Kastor was standing near Damen with at least one metre of distance between them. His features were hard and sharp, his shoulders broad and he had a heavy stubble beard.</p>
<p>Once it was over, Damen walked over to Laurent. He was holding a pink rose that he had taken from the wreath. Laurent didn’t need to be told Damen was planning on preserving it, since he and Auguste had done the exact same thing with two of the roses from their parents’ funeral.</p>
<p>When they hugged, Laurent could feel that Damen’s black clothes were warm from having been under the sun for so long. There were no clouds on that summer day to help deal with the heat. Damen’s hand moved down to hold Laurent’s while they pulled away from the hug.</p>
<p>“Thank you so much,” said Damen, “for coming here with me.”</p>
<p>Laurent looked up at Damen with a small smile. He heard the sound of dry, dead leaves being crushed underfoot before he saw Kastor heading towards them. He was also holding a pink rose. Damen had introduced them both to one another earlier in the day, right before the funeral had started.</p>
<p>“I’ll pick up some things from the house tomorrow,” Kastor said, glancing down at Damen and Laurent’s joined hands before his eyes went to Damen.</p>
<p>Damen nodded. “How’s Jokaste doing? Her due date is coming up, right?”</p>
<p>“In nine days.”</p>
<p>“Have you decided on a name?”</p>
<p>“Theo.” It was obvious where the name came from.</p>
<p>They exchanged a few more words before Damen took a step forward, still holding Laurent’s hand as he used his free arm to hug his brother. There was a short delay before Kastor returned it, then left to join a small group of people.</p>
<p>There was definitely some strain between the two brothers, but Laurent didn’t know why. It wouldn’t be right for him to ask about it, so he didn’t.</p>
<p>Before people left the cemetery, they had each gone to Damen and Kastor to give their condolences. Soon, the only two people left were Laurent and Damen.</p>
<p>Damen’s parents had been buried next to each other near the start of the aisle. Hand in hand, they walked up to the two white marble graves.</p>
<p>Laurent looked at the portrait of Damen’s mother, Egeria. Just like Theomedes and Damen, her hair and eyes were both dark. Her long curls flowed over her shoulders and she had a closed mouth smile that was one of the kindest Laurent had ever seen anyone have.</p>
<p>“I promise you both,” said Laurent, “I’ll take good care of your son.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>On their way back to the house, they stopped by the bakery. Apparently Theomedes would sometimes indulge himself by having two desserts, and so Damen and Laurent would do the same later that night.</p>
<p>“Just like you,” Damen said, walking into the bakery after Laurent, “my father also had a sweet tooth.”</p>
<p>Laurent stood in front of the counter, his eyes roaming over the variety of pastries displayed on the metallic shelves. “Did he have a preference? Any favourites?”</p>
<p>“Not particularly.” Damen came to stand beside him. “He’d buy whatever he was in the mood for.”</p>
<p>Nodding, Laurent decided on a chocolate cupcake with blue buttercream and a green macaron, while Damen went for a mini cinnamon roll and a slice of lemon cake. The woman neatly packed it all and then handed the white plastic bag to Damen.</p>
<p>Once they were back at the house, Laurent took the bag and put it in the fridge while Damen sat in the middle of the grey couch. It was cool inside, since they had left the air conditioner on before leaving for the funeral.</p>
<p>“Today will also be tough for Nik,” said Damen, tilting his head to rest it against the back of the couch. “My father was also like one to him.”</p>
<p>Laurent was silent as he closed the fridge door and moved to stand behind the couch. He lightly touched Damen’s left shoulder and leaned down to kiss his forehead. Damen was looking up at him with a weak smile.</p>
<p>“Auguste told me he’d be visiting Nikandros today,” said Laurent.</p>
<p>“I’m glad he has someone to comfort him in person,” Damen said, closing his tired eyes.</p>
<p>“So am I.” A pause. “I’ll start cooking dinner.” He knew Damen hadn’t eaten all day and the same was true for himself. “It should be ready in about half an hour.”</p>
<p>After they finished eating and cleaned up, Damen put the kettle on the stove while Laurent stood at the kitchen sink and stared at the gardens in the backyard.</p>
<p>“He always loved the outdoors.” Damen was still at the stove as he spoke. “He used to spend so much time out there. I still have no idea how he kept himself busy half the time.”</p>
<p>When the water finished boiling, it was Laurent who poured it carefully into two mugs. He made a black coffee for Damen and a green tea for himself. Meanwhile, Damen was putting their desserts on black ceramic plates.</p>
<p>The temperature had dropped a considerable amount that evening, so they sat at the outdoor table.</p>
<p>Laurent gently blew into his mug before taking a tentative sip. They finished eating before moving to sit on the wooden swinging bench—something that Damen and his father had built together, Damen told him—and spent the next hour looking up at the stars while talking.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The next three days had come and gone quickly and, before Laurent knew it, they were back in Marlas. A little over two weeks after they returned, they went on their next date.</p>
<p>Damen laid out the red and black checkered blanket while Laurent stood to the side and waited, holding the handle of the wooden picnic basket in both hands.</p>
<p>“How’s that?” Damen asked, standing up straight again.</p>
<p>“Looks good.” Laurent set the basket down in the middle before sitting with his legs crossed. Damen sat beside him.</p>
<p>There was a faint breeze that afternoon. Summer was finally coming to an end, which Laurent, not liking the heat one bit, was so relieved about. The weather was cool enough that he could comfortably wear a long sleeved navy dress shirt and black slacks.</p>
<p>“I’ve been practicing something,” said Laurent, pulling a silver coin out from his breast pocket.</p>
<p>Damen took one look at the coin and grinned, leaning back on his hands. “Show me.”</p>
<p>Laurent held it between his middle and index fingers before palming it. He had done this at least a dozen times perfectly; he could do it again, now, without a doubt. Taking a deep breath, he opened his hand again. The coin was gone.</p>
<p>Damen had looked amazed by the trick…</p>
<p>…until the coin fell out of Laurent’s sleeve.</p>
<p>There was a long pause where they stared at one another, Laurent with a straight face, and Damen with that grin again.</p>
<p>Laurent said, “Pretend you didn’t see that last part.”</p>
<p>Damen’s laugh was so open and carefree that Laurent couldn’t help but to smile. After putting the coin back away, he lifted the lid of the basket and took out two containers filled with garden salad, followed by ham and cheese sandwiches, all of which he had put together himself. He retrieved two green plastic forks and passed one to Damen, brought out their water bottles, then closed the lid.</p>
<p>Damen had thanked him as he sat up straighter and took the offered items. “Anything you make always looks so amazing.”</p>
<p>It really was a shame Laurent could no longer blame the heat for his flushed cheeks. “Thank you,” he said, opening his container and skewering one of the tiny, round tomatoes on the end of his fork. “How’s work been?” he asked before popping the tomato into his mouth.</p>
<p>“Yeah, good,” said Damen, after eating a slice of cucumber. “I’ve missed seeing everyone there.” He had only just started going back go work after being in mourning. “A couple of my patients gave me more pages they had coloured.” There was a fond smile as he spoke.</p>
<p>Laurent was smiling, too. “Colouring books are still quite popular, I see.”</p>
<p>“My patients absolutely love them.”</p>
<p>“If you ever need to buy more, you should stop by while I’m working. I can give you a discount.” His voice became playful. “Oh, is that why we’re dating? You just wanted to use me for cheaper books?”</p>
<p>Damen had to put his fork down because of how hard he was laughing. “You’re as smart as always.” Picking up the fork again, he said, “Yes, you’ve figured me out. We’re only dating because I want to save a few dollars on colouring books.”</p>
<p>“I knew it.” This time, when Damen laughed, Laurent joined in.</p>
<p>Damen talked a little more about his work while they continued their meal, Laurent listening with a smile. A few leaves from the tree they were sitting under fell around them and he flicked one off his knee, watching it land between him and Damen on the blanket.</p>
<p>On Damen’s phone, Laurent was shown some new photos that Kastor had taken of Theo, dressed in a light blue onesie. His eyes were closed, presumably sleeping. It was very noticeable just how excited Damen was about being an uncle whenever he spoke about Theo.</p>
<p>They packed everything up, Damen carrying the basket as they walked down one of the paths in the park. It lead towards the fountain, where Damen stopped, and Laurent turned to face him with a puzzled look.</p>
<p>Setting the basket on the ground, Damen said, “I think our dates have been going well.”</p>
<p>It really was ridiculous how easily Laurent’s cheeks heated up. “I think so, too.”</p>
<p>Damen raised both his hands, and Laurent didn’t hesitate before holding them. “I really like you, Laurent. You’re funny and kind and sweet. Being with you makes me very happy, more than words can express.” He lifted one of Laurent’s hands and placed a soft kiss over the knuckles. “Would you like to officially go out with me?”</p>
<p>Laurent squeezed Damen’s hands. “You’re asking me to be your boyfriend?”</p>
<p>“I am.”</p>
<p>They were alone. The only sounds came from the birds, perched on the nearby trees, and the water rushing out of the fountain.</p>
<p>Laurent’s heart still felt like it was damaged, irreparable, <i>broken</i>, after everything he had been through. He was sure Uncle had ruined him forever. But Damen had shown him, time and again, that he could be loved, that he was <i>worthy</i> of being loved.</p>
<p>Too much time had passed; he knew he had to say something. With a pounding heart, he leaned up to kiss Damen.</p>
<p>“Yes. I would like that.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Later, when Laurent returned home, it was to the sound of Auguste practicing the piano.</p>
<p>Auguste had only recently bought the black upright piano, after his therapist—Kashel—said it might be a good idea for him to learn an instrument to help keep him busy and his mind occupied.</p>
<p>Laurent thought it was a very good idea. It wasn’t hard to see how anxious Auguste got throughout the day, which usually resulted in him drumming his fingers against a surface.</p>
<p>Out of every instrument, Auguste had always been fascinated by the piano. He was still learning the basics, but he was a determined person. With enough practice, Laurent knew his brother would play it exceptionally well in the future. He couldn’t wait to hear it.</p>
<p>Laurent made his way down the hallway and towards Auguste’s room, where the piano had been placed. The door was already wide open, but he still tapped one knuckle against it.</p>
<p>Auguste’s fingers stopped atop the keys, the sound of the last note he played fading out. He put his hands in his lap and turned his head to the right to face Laurent in the doorway.</p>
<p>“You’re back,” he said, smiling. “Come sit with me.” He moved over on the piano bench, creating space for Laurent. “How did it go?”</p>
<p>After walking into the room and sitting beside Auguste, Laurent said, “I have a boyfriend now.” He pressed one of the white keys, unsure of which note it was.</p>
<p>Auguste’s smile was bright. “I’m incredibly happy for you both.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Laurent’s happiness did not last through the night, however.</p>
<p>He was breathing heavily as he woke up from the nightmare, tears already running down his face as he struggled to sit up. He pulled the blanket away, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he could sit at the edge of it.</p>
<p>The last thing he remembered about the nightmare was Uncle’s hand, clasped over his mouth, keeping him from speaking.</p>
<p>Taking a shaky breath, Laurent stood up. His steps were slow and quiet as he walked to his bedroom door and opened it. He went into the living room and sat beside Auguste, who had that same look of worry like the last time Laurent tried to speak up.</p>
<p>“You’re going to be disappointed in me,” said Laurent, his voice low and trembling, “but I need to tell you something.”</p>
<p>For the first time ever, Laurent talked about what had happened between him and Uncle.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! 💖</p>
<p>If anyone was wondering, yes, the idea of Auguste playing the piano did come from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746652/chapters/17662225">Étude</a> (hi Mari, I love you, thank you for writing such a beautiful fic)</p>
<p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>I failed him as a brother.</i>
</p>
<p>That’s what Auguste told himself as he patiently listened to Laurent speak, giving him all the time he needed.</p>
<p>Although Auguste didn’t show it on his face, waves of anger rushed through him, one after the other, none of it whatsoever directed towards Laurent. He was mad—furious, actually—at their uncle, and he was mad at himself.</p>
<p>He thought he had been doing what was best for Laurent when he agreed to lessen the visitations, but he had only inadvertently pushed him away. Why had he never seen any of the signs? How could he ever let Laurent suffer alone like that for all these years?</p>
<p>Surely, even though he was in prison at the time, he could have somehow done a better job at protecting Laurent, right? That was his duty, his role, as an older brother. He was supposed to be the protector, and he’d failed, miserably.</p>
<p>It suddenly made sense why Laurent had been so eager to move out of the house once he was eighteen, why he sometimes looked tense whenever Uncle brought him to visitation.</p>
<p>This was exactly what Laurent tried to tell him that night in the backyard, wasn’t it? Shit. Auguste’s fingers were itching to hold a cigarette right now. Part of him desperately wanted to be sent back to prison so he could deal with their uncle himself, but he refused to leave Laurent again.</p>
<p>The way Laurent worded everything he said, it was as if he blamed himself for what had happened. The sight and sound of him sobbing broke Auguste’s heart into a million pieces.</p>
<p>“You need to know,” said Auguste, unable to stop the tears in his eyes, “that it was not your fault at all.”</p>
<p>Laurent looked so very exhausted. They were both still sitting next to each other on the couch when Laurent leaned to his left and rested his head on Auguste’s shoulder.</p>
<p>Remembering what Laurent had mentioned earlier, Auguste said, “I’m not disappointed in you, Laurent.” He used his thumb to gently wipe away Laurent’s tears. “I could never be.”</p>
<p>Laurent didn’t seem to have the energy to talk anymore, and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep, his breathing becoming soft and even.</p>
<p>Auguste waited a few minutes before he slowly stood. He manoeuvred Laurent, careful not to wake him, so that he was lying on the couch. Leaving the living room, he returned shortly with a blanket, putting it over Laurent. He leaned down to kiss the top of his head before going outside for a cigarette. It was his first one in almost two weeks.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>A week passed since that talk, which had lifted so much weight off Laurent’s shoulders.</p>
<p>Laurent was cleaning up his room, going through his things to decide what needed to be thrown out since clutter was starting to accumulate, when he came across a purple box in his wardrobe. It was filled with every single letter Auguste had sent him from prison, since he refused to ever throw any of them away. It had been a while since he last read any of them.</p>
<p>Taking a deep breath, Laurent pulled the box down from the top shelf and moved to the middle of his bed with his legs crossed. With the box in his lap, he lifted the lid, placing it beside him before pulling out one of the sheets of paper. Gingerly, he unfolded it, all the while wondering if Auguste had kept any of the letters Laurent had written for him.</p>
<p>For as long as Laurent could remember, Auguste’s cursive handwriting had always been neat. One by one, he read through the letters with a bittersweet smile, each one never failing to mention how much he was missing Laurent and loved him.</p>
<p>Slowly, he placed them all back inside the box before closing it with the lid. He stood and made his way to the wardrobe to put it away again when he came across his baby album. The cover was hard and light blue, and he remained standing as he opened it. There was quite some weight to it in his hands.</p>
<p>On the very first page was a list of information with things like the date and time he was born, his parents’ names, his weight, height, birthplace, his first word, the day he started walking on his own. Everything was filled out in his mother’s elegant handwriting.</p>
<p>The first photo had been taken on the day he was born. His mother was tired but happy on the hospital bed, looking down at Laurent in her arms. His father was kissing her head while Auguste had sat on the chair beside the bed, a big smile on his face and a hand stretched out with Laurent’s tiny fingers wrapped around his index finger.</p>
<p>A photo on the next page showed Laurent holding his mother’s hands as he was learning to walk.</p>
<p>As he flipped through each page, there were gaps here and there; Laurent had long ago taken out and thrown any photo that contained Uncle.</p>
<p>Another photo, this time of him being held by Auguste, who was feeding him a bottle of milk. Auguste was looking down at him with a face full of wonder while Laurent’s eyes were closed, his small hands on the bottle.</p>
<p>Laurent was smiling as he closed the album and set it back down. Taking his phone out of his pocket, he tapped his thumb on the screen, putting all of his music on shuffle before leaving it atop the desk and resumed his task of cleaning.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>It took six months before Laurent felt like he was ready to take things further in his and Damen’s relationship.</p>
<p>Laurent was spending the night at Damen’s house—something that happened at least once or twice a week, depending on both their work schedules. Standing in the kitchen, Laurent was in the middle of cutting a carrot while listening to the news on the television when he heard the front door open and close.</p>
<p>“It might be a while before I can face Auguste again,” Damen said as he headed towards the kitchen. He put the white paper bag he was holding onto the tabletop before shrugging out of his red jacket, draping it over the dining chair.</p>
<p>“Huh?” Laurent blinked, setting down the knife on top of the green chopping board before giving Damen a curious look.</p>
<p>“I ran into him at the pharmacy, and he saw...” He gestured with one hand to the bag containing the condoms.</p>
<p>Laurent quickly raised his hand, using the back of it to cover his mouth as he laughed.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you find it funny.” It was adorable how it almost looked like Damen was pouting when he spoke.</p>
<p>Laurent lowered his hand and said, “I would have loved to see your reaction to that.” Walking around the kitchen island, he laughed again, this time quieter. He smiled when Damen tilted his head down to kiss him. “Come help me prepare dinner.”</p>
<p>Cooking was another thing they had been doing more often, the two of them learning new recipes and trying them out together. Tonight, they were having lamb chops with roast potatoes and a mix of vegetables. Once they finished eating and the dishes were washed and put away, they headed to Damen’s bedroom.</p>
<p>“If you change your mind or don’t want to continue, we can stop at any time, okay?” Damen said, placing the bag on the bedside table.</p>
<p>Laurent nodded and leaned up to kiss him. He took a few steps backwards, pulling Damen along with him, until the back of his knees hit the bed. He sat down on the edge before they kissed again, one of Damen’s hands running through Laurent’s hair which was longer now, since Laurent had decided to grow it out after his talk with Auguste all those months ago.</p>
<p>A flush hit Laurent’s cheeks hard as he watched Damen remove his own shirt. It was thrown onto the floor.</p>
<p>“Please don’t ever stop going to the gym,” said Laurent, his heart racing as he began to unbutton his white shirt. He had never shown this much skin to Damen before, despite how long they had been going out.</p>
<p>Damen let out a breath of laughter and they kissed once again, Laurent smiling into it before he moved further on the bed, his shirt now half-open. Lying on his back with his head resting against the black pillow, he bent his legs, his feet flat on the bed. Damen came to kneel between them, and Laurent bit his lip in anticipation.</p>
<p>Laurent’s moan was low as both of Damen’s hands trailed down his sides, stopping at his waist. He could feel the heat from Damen’s hands seeping through the smooth fabric of his shirt. Damen kept one hand there and removed the other, placing it beside Laurent’s head as he leaned down to kiss his mouth over and over. Each one was soft, tender, sweet, and Laurent practically melted into them all.</p>
<p>Damen moved his mouth down, kissing along Laurent’s jawline and then lower, to his neck. Laurent tilted his head to give him better access and he sighed in content, his fingers lightly gripping the bedding on either side of him.</p>
<p>Closing his eyes had been a mistake.</p>
<p>A big, huge mistake.</p>
<p>Suddenly it wasn’t Damen’s weight on top of him, wasn’t Damen’s hand on his waist, wasn’t Damen’s lips against his neck, wasn’t Damen’s hot breath against his skin.</p>
<p>It wasn’t Damen, but rather—</p>
<p>Laurent’s chest rose and fell as his breathing became heavy.</p>
<p>“Laurent?” Damen’s concerned voice. “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>His eyes flew open as he gasped loudly, his hands coming up to Damen’s shoulders and pushing him away with more force than necessary. He instantly felt bad for doing it.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry,” said Laurent, sitting up, his arms and fingers shaking as he struggled to button up his shirt. He tried to focus on getting his breathing back under control.</p>
<p>This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go.</p>
<p>Damen had already gotten off the bed and was now standing beside it, clearly wanting to give Laurent space. “Don’t apologise.” He bent down to pick up his shirt, putting it back on.</p>
<p>After some time passed, Laurent said, “I thought I was ready to have sex with you.” He sighed, rubbing at his upper arm. “I really want to, Damen. It’s just... me.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to explain yourself.” As always, Damen was being so caring and considerate. He was speaking gently.</p>
<p>“We might never...”</p>
<p>“And that’s perfectly okay. Is there anything I can do for you?”</p>
<p>Laurent reached over to the lamp on the bedside table closest to him, tapping the base a couple of times to get it to the dimmest setting. “I don’t think I can handle being touched right now,” he said, truthfully, “but lie down with me?” He slid over to make room, still feeling a little shaky.</p>
<p>“Of course.” Damen walked over to the light switch, flicking it off before coming back to bed.</p>
<p>The only source of light in the room now came from the lamp. In the past, they had always gone to bed surrounded by the darkness, but Laurent needed an exception this time. They both slipped underneath the blanket with some space between their bodies, facing one another.</p>
<p>“Just so you know,” said Laurent, quietly, looking at Damen’s face, “you didn’t do anything wrong. I like it when you touch me.”</p>
<p>“I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>They continued to talk late into the night until they both fell asleep.</p>
<p>When Laurent awoke in the morning, he was warm and comfortable, wrapped in the blanket. With the side of his face pressed into the pillow, he opened one eye, seeing Damen sitting beside him with his back against the wooden headboard. The lamp had been turned off and the natural light through the window was filling the room.</p>
<p>Laurent’s voice was full of sleep when he said, “Morning.”</p>
<p>Damen was holding his phone and he lowered his hand as he looked down at Laurent with a smile. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>“Better.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad. Are you hungry?”</p>
<p>“I could eat.” He covered his mouth as he yawned before rolling onto his back, smiling up at Damen. “Kiss me, please.”</p>
<p>Damen complied before he said, “I was thinking we could go out for breakfast?”</p>
<p>“As long as we go somewhere that serves pancakes.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Once again, Laurent was spending New Year’s Eve at Damen’s house.</p>
<p>He had arrived early enough so they could make dinner, this time being pizza from scratch. They each put different toppings on their own pizza, and Laurent was eyeing Damen’s after they sat beside each other at the dining table.</p>
<p>“Do you want to try some of mine?” Damen asked, holding up a slice in one hand.</p>
<p>Laurent looked up at Damen, then back down at the pizza before leaning closer to take a bite. It was still warm and the dough was incredibly soft and fluffy. He was never a huge fan of black olives, but he didn’t mind the taste of them right now.</p>
<p>He wiped the tiny bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth with his thumb, sucking on it for a second before he said, “Adequate.” He took a second bite of it, smiling as soon as he heard Damen’s laughter.</p>
<p>They eventually moved to the couch to watch a movie with bowls of vanilla ice cream. Laurent had covered his with rainbow sprinkles and chocolate syrup while Damen only put a little bit of the syrup. Once the movie ended, Laurent got up to wash the dishes, noticing Damen had gone down the hallway and to his bedroom.</p>
<p>Glancing at the nearby clock on the wall, Laurent realised that the fireworks would be starting shortly. He dried his hands on the dark grey tea towel when Damen came into the kitchen.</p>
<p>“Shall we head into the backyard?” asked Damen, running a hand up and down his own thigh a couple of times. Perhaps it was just Laurent’s imagination, but did he look a little nervous? Strange.</p>
<p>Laurent nodded and they both made their way outside, coming to sit on the bench. His cheeks warmed up from the memory of what had taken place in this very same spot, exactly one year ago.</p>
<p>They held hands, something that Laurent would never stop loving. Damen’s other hand was in the pocket of his pants. Laurent gave him a look, which soon turned into one of happiness when Damen pressed their foreheads together.</p>
<p>“I’m proud of you,” said Damen, smiling. “One sudoku puzzle every day for a whole year? That’s actually amazing. I knew you’d be able to do it.”</p>
<p>“Would you like to join me for my next resolution?” Laurent asked, barely able to hold back his laugh since he already knew the obvious answer. “I want to complete at least one diabolical sudoku puzzle next year.”</p>
<p>“As tempting as that totally sounds, I think I’ll pass.” As soon as the fireworks started, Damen moved back. “You make me so very happy, Laurent.” He let go of Laurent’s hand and brought it up to tuck a lock of hair behind Laurent’s ear. His fingers brushed against the sapphire earring he had gifted Laurent for his nineteenth birthday. “You are a wonderful person. You’re caring, sweet, kind, selfless, funny.”</p>
<p>Laurent searched Damen’s dark eyes while the beating of his heart picked up. “Damen...”</p>
<p>“I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anybody else. I love you with all of my heart.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding a small navy blue box. Keeping it on his palm, he used his other hand to open it, revealing a gorgeous silver band. “Will you marry me, Laurent de Vere?”</p>
<p>Laurent’s eyes were wide as he stared down at it. The fireworks, loud and colourful and bright, were still going, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away to look up at the night sky to fully appreciate them. The only sound that could be heard were the fireworks.</p>
<p>Finally, Laurent’s gaze went up to Damen’s eyes. He swallowed before opening his mouth.</p>
<p>And then he gave his answer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>“So,” said Auguste, leaning back in his chair at the outdoor table, “what did you want to discuss?” He was rather curious as to why Damen had asked to talk in private.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Damen took a steady breath and exhaled. “I’d like to ask for your blessing to marry Laurent,” he said. “I know we haven’t been dating for even a year, but we’re great together, and I love him very much. More than anything in this world, in fact. He’s the only one for me, and I’m more than confident that I’m the only one for him. I always have, and always will, treat him with nothing but the respect and courtesy he deserves. Even if it turns out that marriage is something he doesn’t want, now or ever, my feelings for him won’t change.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“There’s no doubt,” said Auguste, “that you bring out the best in Laurent. I see it, how happy he is, whenever he talks about you. I am eternally grateful for everything you have done for him. You obviously have my blessing.” He smiled when he saw the relief instantly appear on Damen’s face. “And how do you plan on proposing?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“My first idea was to do it at the cafe during music night, but I don’t want to put public pressure on him like that.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“So which idea did you settle on?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’d like to ask him in my backyard on New Year’s Eve. It’s where some very fond memories took place.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Sounds lovely.” He heard the sound of Laurent’s car—a gift from Auguste for his nineteenth birthday, just three days ago—pull into the driveway.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“This is the ring I want to buy for him.” Damen took his phone out, sliding his finger across the screen a couple of times before passing it over to Auguste.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Auguste held it in one hand, using his thumb and index finger on his other hand to zoom in on the image. “It’s perfect for him,” he said, admiring the ring for a little longer, then handed the phone back. “Good choice.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“You wouldn’t happen to know his ring size, would you?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m afraid I don’t.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“That’s okay. I can always get it resized. If he says yes, of course.”</i>
</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Laurent’s answer was obviously yes.</p>
<p>He could see the tears in Damen’s eyes, could feel them in his own as the fireworks continued. Looking down, he lifted his left hand, letting Damen slip the ring onto his fourth finger.</p>
<p>Wearing it felt right. Being with Damen felt right. Even allowing himself to be happy... felt right.</p>
<p>“It fits perfectly,” said Laurent, raising his hand to get a better look at the ring.</p>
<p>“That’s a relief,” said Damen. “I had to completely guess which size to get it in.”</p>
<p>“We’ll have to buy one for you too.”</p>
<p>Damen brought his hand up to cup Laurent’s cheek. Laurent leaned into the warm touch, instantly placing his own hand over Damen’s before they kissed. By the time they pulled away, the fireworks had already stopped.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>One month later, Nikandros was released from Marlas Penitentiary. It shouldn’t have happened for another few weeks, but he was let out early due to good behaviour.</p>
<p>To celebrate, Damen was doing a barbecue for lunch at his house, since apparently it was one of Nikandros’ favourite things. Actually, it was Laurent’s home, too, since he had moved in a week after they got engaged. Nikandros would be staying with Auguste.</p>
<p>Damen and Nikandros were in the backyard, both standing by the barbecue and already deep in a conversation. In one of Nikandros’ hands was a pair of long stainless steel tongs, which he used to turn over the sausages.</p>
<p>Laurent continued putting together the potato salad in the kitchen while Auguste brought out the plates from one of the overhead cupboards.</p>
<p>“He’s not as scary as he looks,” said Auguste, placing them atop the counter. Nikandros was near the half-open window and so he must have heard because he gave Auguste the middle finger with a straight face. In return, Auguste grinned, then opened the drawer for the cutlery.</p>
<p>In a low voice, Laurent said, “I’m not <i>scared</i> of him. I just... don’t know him like you and Damen do.”</p>
<p>“All jokes aside, he’s a good guy. I’m sure you both will get along well.”</p>
<p>Hearing the sound of the sliding door open, Laurent looked up, smiling when he saw Damen’s head poking through the small gap. “The food’s almost done,” said Damen. “Need any help in here?”</p>
<p>“We’re fine,” said Laurent. “We’ll be outside in a minute.”</p>
<p>Nodding, Damen ducked back out and closed the door, Laurent watching with the same smile.</p>
<p>“It’s good to see you like this,” Auguste said, standing next to Laurent.</p>
<p>“Like what?”</p>
<p>“In love and happy.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The wedding took place two weeks into spring.</p>
<p>Laurent had expected there to be at least some stress while planning it, but there was none at all. He and Damen had easily come to agreements, and were both open to negotiating things that were harder to decide on.</p>
<p>It seemed the most fitting for it to take place in their backyard; it was the spot where they had first kissed and where Damen had proposed. Getting married in any other location didn’t feel right.</p>
<p>The black metal arch they bought formed a perfect circle, decorated completely with greenery and white and pink roses. It was set up in front of the wooden bench.</p>
<p>Placed on the left of the arch was Auguste’s piano, which had carefully been moved there earlier in the day. Playing the piano was something Auguste immensely enjoyed, hence why he had devoted so many hours every day to practicing it. When Laurent and Damen had asked him to play at their wedding, he didn’t hesitate to say yes. Nor did he hesitate to agree to being Laurent’s best man.</p>
<p>A white carpet runner went in a straight line from the sliding door to the arch, a few white chairs with golden sashes on either side of it. Fairy lights were hanging from the trees. They kept the guest list small, only inviting close friends and family—what very little of it they both had, anyway.</p>
<p>Picking up the tiny grey box that Laurent had left on the bedside table, he opened it, taking out the two square cufflinks. Each one was silver and adorned a small sapphire gem in the middle. They had belonged to his father, who had worn them for his own wedding. One day, if Auguste were to ever marry, he would also wear them.</p>
<p>Laurent put them on before walking over to the tall mirror to double check his appearance. His hair was now long enough to tie up in a short ponytail, but he kept it down. The tailored suit that he wore was blue, as well as the tie, and his shirt was white. When he tucked his hair behind his ear, the earring could be seen.</p>
<p>He didn’t know what Damen would be wearing, but he was about to find out.</p>
<p>Opening the bedroom door, Laurent moved down the hallway, the soles of his black leather shoes clacking against the wooden floorboards. Damen was standing in the living room, and he turned around as Laurent approached him.</p>
<p>“Oh my god,” said Damen, a little breathless, his eyes widening. “You look so handsome.” His suit—also tailored—was a red wine colour that matched his tie. His shirt was black and Laurent also noticed he was wearing golden circle cufflinks that used to be his father’s.</p>
<p>“So do you.” Coming to stand in front of Damen, Laurent looked up at him. “You really should wear suits more often.” His heart swelled at the sound of Damen’s laughter.</p>
<p>“Anything for you.” They were smiling at each other as he took Laurent’s hand. A moment passed before they headed towards the sliding door, Damen using his free hand to open it.</p>
<p>As soon as they stepped outside, Auguste started playing the piano. When he played, it was with feelings, with emotions. He didn’t even have to look down at the keyboard, something that Laurent was still surprised by. His brother really was skilled. Auguste looked at them with a big smile.</p>
<p>The weather was beautiful that afternoon; there were some white clouds, but the sun was still able to shine down on everyone. The wind was cool and blew gently.</p>
<p>Everybody was now standing, watching Damen and Laurent walk slowly down the aisle. Laurent wondered if Damen’s heart was beating just as quickly as his own. His hand tightened in Damen’s, enjoying the feeling of Damen’s thumb rubbing against his skin.</p>
<p>Once they reached the arch, they turned to face one another. Laurent lifted his other hand, letting Damen hold it while everyone sat back down in their seats.</p>
<p>This was it.</p>
<p>They were really about to be married.</p>
<p>Rising from the piano bench, Auguste took his place near Laurent. His tie, vest, and pants were all the same blue as what Laurent wore, and his shirt was also white. Nikandros, already standing on Damen’s side, wore the same attire as Auguste, except his colours matched Damen’s. All four of them wore a boutonnière consisting of a pink rose and a bit of greenery.</p>
<p>Damen was the first to say his vows. They were sweet, full of love and promises, and at one point witty, causing Laurent to laugh through his tears of happiness. Laurent had written his own vows on a sheet of paper that he kept in his pocket, but when it became his turn to speak, he found himself not needing to use it. He knew everything he wanted to say, because it all came from the heart.</p>
<p>“Damen, when we first met, I had no idea just how much of an impact you would have in my life. You have always been there for me, just like how I will always be there for you, through the good times and the bad. No words can truly express how lucky and how happy I am to be with you, to be loved by you. You are my best friend, the love of my life.” He squeezed Damen’s hands, feeling a tear roll down his face. “I promise to continue to support you and respect you, to show you how much I care for you, to be by your side, for the rest of our lives.”</p>
<p>They exchanged rings, neither of them with dry eyes. When the time came to kiss, Laurent reached both hands up to cup Damen’s face as he felt hands on his waist, pulling him closer. The flush was quick to appear on Laurent’s cheeks. He tilted his head back as Damen leaned down to press their lips together and the sound of clapping started.</p>
<p>When Damen pulled back, their faces were still close as he whispered, “I love you so much”—they kissed again—“husband.”</p>
<p>Laurent’s smile widened.</p>
<p>Husbands.</p>
<p>That’s what they were now.</p>
<p>They had hired a photographer—a kind man named Charls who had an amazing portfolio and would definitely be worth the price he charged. Laurent and Damen remained in front of the arch as the photos were taken before Auguste and Nikandros were asked to join them. Laurent had no doubt Damen would be using one of these photos as the background for his phone.</p>
<p>Once the photos were over with, Laurent said, “You played beautifully, Auguste. You’ve gotten really good.”</p>
<p>Auguste smiled at him. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>“Have you picked somewhere for your next trip?”</p>
<p>Traveling was something Auguste and Nikandros had been doing a lot together over the months. Sometimes they’d be gone for only a couple of days, other times it was for weeks. So far they’d been up north, in Arles and Varenne, and down south, to Dice and Thrace.</p>
<p>“We’ve been thinking about Sicyon. It’s Nikandros’ hometown.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” He looked over at Nikandros, who was standing with Damen as they chatted with Jokaste and Kastor. Damen was holding Theo in one arm, pretending to take his nose and laughing. Laurent felt his heart melt, and he smiled.</p>
<p>The reception also took place in the backyard, under a white tent on the right side of the lawn. There was one long table with a white tablecloth and a golden table runner for everyone to dine at, another table with all of the food and drinks, a smaller table for gifts, and one with a burning candle plus photos of the people Damen and Laurent had lost over the years.</p>
<p>The cake had two tiers, covered completely with white fondant. A golden ribbon was wrapped fully around the bottom of each tier. On the very top were a couple of fake white and pink roses. Laurent and Damen both held the handle of the knife as they made the first cut into it.</p>
<p>By the end of the night, it was just Damen and Laurent.</p>
<p>“Let’s deal with this tomorrow,” said Laurent, his eyes sweeping over the backyard. The piano had already been brought inside; Auguste and Nikandros would return the next day to pick it up. “I have a better idea for us right now.” He held Damen’s hand, bringing him over to the sliding door. Nothing could hide his flush.</p>
<p>“You mean...”</p>
<p>Laurent hummed and they went inside the house, then to their bedroom. Undressing took longer than it should have, since they kept pausing to kiss. There was no rush; they had all the time in the world.</p>
<p>When they moved to the bed, Laurent’s hair was splayed against the red pillow as he looked up at Damen with a smile. “I love you so much,” he said.</p>
<p>For the first time in their relationship, they made love.</p>
<p>Damen was so soft, so slow, so gentle. Laurent’s toes curled and his moans were low as he gripped Damen’s shoulders.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>They were going to be spending their honeymoon in Isthima. It was a place neither of them had been to before, and Laurent was looking forward to exploring it with Damen. They booked six nights in a room on the top floor of an expensive hotel that would give a great view of the ocean.</p>
<p>Laurent went through the checklist he had written, making absolutely sure they had packed everything they needed before he zipped up the two suitcases. Damen picked them up by the handles, one in each hand, and took them to the car. Laurent followed after him, closing and locking the front door before getting into the passenger seat.</p>
<p>The drive to the airport took them past Marlas Penitentiary.</p>
<p>It pleased Laurent to know he would be living his life as a happily married man while Uncle was left to rot in prison with no help from anybody.</p>
<p>He let out a small laugh, earning a quick, curious glance from Damen.</p>
<p>Laurent’s heart had once been so broken that he thought it would never be fixed, that the very idea of it being repaired was impossible. But now his heart was capable of beating with joy, with happiness, with love.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What a journey it’s been. I still can’t believe it’s over 😭</p>
<p>Thank you so much for taking the time to read this fic and for all of your lovely comments! The love and support has been overwhelming. It’s been a lot of fun seeing everyone’s thoughts and reactions 💖</p>
<p>You can find me over on <a href="https://veretianstarburst.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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